Fallen Flag: The Second American Civil War
by Azecreth
Summary: In the future, the USA is on it's last legs. War is coming as the USA crumbles in on itself. New nations have risen, and Alfred Jones has fallen. will he restore the USA, or is this the end for the United States? And if Alfred goes, will he take the rest of the world with him? the battle for North America begins, and the world will never be the same. Full list of warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This comes from a game I was playing somewhere else, written into story format and posted with the permission of the guy who made the game originally. This will be very Alfred-centric, with other viewpoints thrown in if I think it's important. There will also be some largish time jumps in the first bits, so you have been warned. also, I've never actually seen Hetalia outside of stories in this site and RP's, so that's another warning for you.  
**

**Warnings: violence, angst, suicidal thoughts and possible attempts, consumption of alcohol, swearing. Major Alfred-whump. What did you expect from a story of the Second American Civil War?**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

_"All good things must come to an end, but all bad things can continue forever"_

-**Thornton Wilder**_  
_

**Year 2021 Anno Domini**

Alfred ran up to his front door from the armored limousine that had delivered him. He rummaged around for the key in his pocket while thinking back over the recent hectic weeks. It had certainly been interesting.

It looked like North Korea had finally gone over the deep end. Im Yong Soo, aka South Korea, had run to Alfred's house, crying that they had found the North Koreans digging another tunnel under the DMZ. Combined with the other recent tensions, it was finally enough to drive the hero to action. Together, they went before the assembled nations in the World Conference while President Grendel went before the Security Council, speaking of the threat that North Korea was to security in Asia. Even Yao listened for once, apparently realizing that this time he couldn't save North Korea.

In the end, the UN agreed to launch the final invasion of North Korea, with America (naturally) in charge. And so they went in. North Korea of course had their defenses ready, and the battle quickly started. In the end, the overwhelming force of the UN Coalition quickly destroyed their regular military forces, and US special forces seized the North Korean nuclear arsenal before it could be launched at South Korea and Japan. Sure, there were some guerrillas still fighting, but Alfred knew they would help South Korea keep them down.

Finally, Alfred found his keys and inserted the most ornate key into the lock, the other keys jangling against each other as he did so. He swung the large wooden doors open after removing his key from the lock, and strode briskly into his house. Actually, it was more like a mansion to be precise. It was loaded filled with stuff that Alfred had collected over the years. Art, sculptures, furniture, guns. If it could be associated with America, odds are it was in Alfred's house. There was even a burger place on call for when Alfred was hungry. It also had top grade Wi-fi, and access to every TV channel known to man. Basically, it was the perfect bachelor pad for a hero like Alfred. As he stepped inside he called out loudly, "The Hero is here!"

As he walked in, his butler hurried up. "Hello, sir. I'm glad to see you made it back in one piece."

Alfred nodded to Horatio, the butler he had hired to take care of the house while he was away. Horatio knew that he was a representation of the United States, but he didn't show any prejudice against Alfred, one of the reasons Alfred liked him so much. Sure he had a bit of a British accent, but there was common ancestry there after all. Not that he'd ever let Iggy know.

Alfred took off his standard bomber jacket and handed it to Horatio. "Get it stitched up if you can," he said.

Horatio looked over the bomber jacket. There was a fairly large tear in the left side from who knows what, and several smaller tears from what he assumed were bullets whipping past Alfred. "I take it you were in the thick of it sir," commented Horatio, not phrasing it as a question.

"Yep. I was kicking butt and taking names. I am The Hero after all."

"Well, sir, I'm glad you made it out alright. Wouldn't want anything to happen to America, now would we sir?"

"Right." replied Alfred before heading off into the mansion. Horatio smiled before taking the bomber jacket to see if he could find a good seamstress. Not that he expected much could be done with this hole.

Alfred made his way back to his room, a large room, with a double bed, big flatscreen tv, Xbox 360, dvd and bluray player, theater sound suite, and anything else he needed. It was a pretty sweet setup, to be sure. He walked over to the walk in closet that contained the clothes he had picked up over the years. Stepping inside, he walked past the cowboy outfit, the suit, the marine uniform, the t shirts and jeans, until he reached a rack of similar clothes. He moved a few around, then picked and pulled out a new bomber jacket, one that he could use until his regular one was repaired. It was good to have backups in case this sort of thing happened.

Putting on the jacket, he walked out to find Horatio waiting outside with a meal of a hamburger, fries, and a cold soda. Horatio nodded as Alfred emerged from the closet. "Thanks Horatio, it's like you read my mind." He went over and quickly began devouring the burger.

"Oh, it wasn't that difficult sir," commented Horatio as he moved off to the side. "Sadly, the jacket is a near total loss, according to the seamsters, unless you mind a very large patch on the side."

Alfred mumbled as he ate, "No, that'd just make me look dumb. Can't have that, can we?"

"No sir. Oh, by the way sir, your kids were wondering when you'd be visiting. They said they miss you."

Alfred looked up from the fries he was devouring. "Who," he asked in confusion.

"Your kids sir. The ones who live in the other house," explained Horatio to the forgetful country.

Memories flashed into Alfred's mind. "Oh, right, those kids. I'll visit them tomorrow. I need to do some stuff here first. And get some sleep. It's been a pretty action packed couple of weeks."

"I'm sure sir," replied Horatio before departing to go make the necessary phone calls.

Alfred was sipping on his soda, when he suddenly remembered something he needed to do. Reaching down, he pulled out a slightly crumpled photo from his pocket. Smoothing it out, he leaned it up against the mantle. The picture showed the victorious allies assembled in victory, Alfred with a beaming smile on his face and holding Matthew in a headlock. The other powers didn't look quite as happy. Alfred had hear that there had been some backlash in their home countries about the amount of causalities taken during the invasion. Not that they had actually done much. Alfred, as usual, had done the heavy lifting. But at least they had done what they needed to do to support democracy in the world. That's what heroes were for, weren't they?

As he worked out in the gym, he heard someone step into the room, but he was too busy to actually look to see who it was. The clapping of hard sole dress shoes on the floor made it obvious who it was.

"Hey Boss," called Alfred before racking the weights and sitting up. "So, not too shabby for a hero like me, right?"

Newly sworn in President Bradley Grendel stood a respectable distance away, clad in a business suit. "The military part was easy Alfred. It was placating the population that was hard. They don't want us spending our money on international adventures when things are so tough at home."

Alfred took a long drink from the Gatorade bottle next to him. "But, I'm the hero! It's my job to help people who need it."

Grendel sighed. "I know Alfred, but the American public are tired of intervening in everyone elses conflicts without any benefit for ourselves. They want us to focus on our own problems, like education, alternative energy, and the economy. To some of them, we should have left the world alone after beating the USSR."

"Well, they're wrong," said Alfred with solid certainty.

Grendel gave him a sad smile. "It's proving harder to convince people of that, and the economy isn't doing so hot. Our analysts predict losses in this quarter of..."

Alfred interrupted. "Hey now, numbers."

Grendel nodded. "Sorry, I forgot you weren't into the whole 'detail' thing. Anyway, it looks like we're headed to another economic slowdown."

"Don't worry Boss, you got it. I've got faith in you."

"Thanks Alfred. I hope the people feel the same way." He turned to leave. "Well, duty calls. Take care." with that, he strode out of the gym.

Alfred nodded at the departing President then went back to working out. A hero had to be in shape, after all.

* * *

Alfred braced himself as the limousine pulled up outside of the smaller mansion he had gotten for his kids. He hadn't seen them in a while, what with the North Korean Crisis and everything else that had happened recently. He had had Congress set up a small fund for them so they could buy stuff. Child support, if you will. Inside the ridiculous US budget, it was hardly noticeable.

The house itself was located in North Carolina, suitably far away that nobody would connect Alfred with them. It wasn't that Alfred was afraid. It would just be hard to explain where all these relatives came from when Alfred wasn't married. He also found it odd, since they certainly weren't nations, and if they didn't represent them, then what did they represent? It sent a shiver through his spine just thinking about it.

Alfred bounded out of the limousine as the driver, whose name he could never remember, opened the door. "Thanks. I'll call if I need you."

The driver bowed slightly before closing the passenger door, walking back to the drivers side, getting in, and driving the car away as Alfred bounded up the steps to the front door. He didn't bother to knock, since he owned the house. Instead he just unlocked the door and stepped inside before yelling, "The hero has arrived!"

The first to come running up from the inside was Cassie Jones, one of the younger kids that had appeared one day. As opposed to some of the older ones who felt like Alfred was ignoring them, she still loved her father. She was followed soon afterwards by Dakota, Alice, Hawaii, Christie, Louis, Tex (person, not Alfred's glasses), and eventually, Sean.

"Hey dad. So, I saw you were in North Korea," commented Dakota.

"Yeah. Had to kick their asses to reunify the country. Just something that they needed a hero to do," replied Alfred as he walked further into the house, followed by everyone else.

"I'm glad you made it out okay," said Cassie happily.

"Well, wasn't that hard to a true hero like me. They couldn't even touch me," boasted Alfred. He didn't notice Sean rolling his eyes at the statement. He then asked, "So, how have you guys been?"

They listed off their accomplishments since they had seen him last. Tex had learned how to strip and put an M16 back together in under a minute blindfolded. Sean was (to Alfred's dismay) reading the collective works of Karl Marx, and Alfred wrote himself a mental note to do something about that even though he'd forgotten about ten seconds later. Christie was learning to sword fight. Alice had wrestled bears for fun. Louis had learned some new Cajun recipes. Dakota had learned to ride a horse sideways like his Native American ancestors (so he claimed), Hawaii, well, she hadn't done much besides party and surf.

"Well, it looks like things are going alright for you guys," commented Alfred. "Eventually, you'll be as awesome as me."

They all reached the living room and sat down, Alfred lounging on their large couch. He then leapt up as if he'd forgotten something. "Hey, anybody got some hamburgers? I'm starving."

Cassie nodded before running off to the kitchen. Sean shot the occasional angry glance at Alfred, who was oblivious. Hawaii chatted with him amicably as Cassie came back with a hot burger. Alfred munched on it as he conversed. Tex wanted to know a lot about his fight with Korea, Dakota just listened with an interested ear, as did Louis and Cassie. Alfred talked a lot of his daring heroism during the short war, and he thought he did a pretty good job of representing the facts (as he knew them).

Then, almost of a sudden, Alfred felt sick in the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be the food. He'd eaten much worse in his time. Including MRE's. This definitely wasn't food related. As the feeling began rising into his throat, Alfred excused himself and made a mad dash for the bathroom, just barely reaching it in time before he began throwing up.

Cassie said with concern. "I wonder what's wrong with him?"

Dakota replied, "Maybe something in the food didn't agree with him."

Just then, Alfred's phone, which he had left on the table, began vibrating. Reaching over, Louis saw that Alfred had just received a text message. "I don't think he'll mind if I look at it," commented Louis in a drawl common to the Bayou. Opening the message, he saw that it said _Turn on the TV. Now. Any channel._

Louis reached over and grabbed the remote from the coffee table next to Alice, and pressed the power button. The TV turned on to scenes of panic on Wall Street. The headline screamed out "Collapse of Dow Jones". A news reporter was talking about the situation. "In the wake of the Second Korean Conflict, inflation increased dramatically due to military spending as a result of the conflict. And with a renewed push by China to collect more of the multi trillion dollar debt owed to it by the US Government, the Dow Jones plunged as trading began this morning. Trading was stopped early today in an effort to stop panic selling, and it is unknown at this point whether it will continue when the market reopens. What is known for sure is that this will have severe consequences on the US economy for the foreseeable future."

They watched the TV in awe. Major economic turbulence, like back in 2009. It didn't look good at all. Unemployment was expected to rise and the GDP to drop, among other things. They were so busy watching that they didn't notice Alfred walk out of the bathroom, his face pale. He looked at the TV for a second, then grabbed his phone from where Louis had left it.

"Hey, I need to leave," he said to the driver. He then turned to his kids. "Sorry guys, but you see whats going on. The country needs me. I'll see you all later." He then turned around and strode out of the house without looking back.

* * *

**Year: 2023 Anno Domini**

Alfred was not happy, to say the least. The economy had plunged like a rock. Grendel had done his best, but people were just fed up with the governments inability to solve the problem. They wanted economic relief, but Alfred couldn't see how that was going to happen. He was getting more and more tired these days from stress as he worked to keep the USA from devouring itself in economic meltdown.

This hadn't helped his 'family' issues much either. He hadn't seen them much at all lately due to work. He knew he should visit, but he was just to busy saving the day, one day at a time. He had also had to add to the smaller house's list of inhabitants. One day, a girl named Nadia had appeared. It was odd, since her appearance had coincided with that of a group called the Nationalist Party of America, a patriotic group that espoused extreme nationalism. With the Two Party system collapsing as the Libertarians and other gained in strength, they had garnered a lot of attention in the media.

Alfred was taking a break in his mansion when President Grendel stepped into the room. The man looked years older than when he had been sworn in two years ago. "Hey Boss. How are things going in DC?"

"Not good," replied Grendel as he sat down across from Alfred, who was munching on a hamburger. "Things are falling apart. Riots, protests, deadlock in Congress, gas has passed $20, bank failures. Speaking of which." He slid over a photo of some protesters in New York. "Recognize that man," he asked, pointing at a prominent person in the photo.

Alfred leaned over so he could get a better look. "Is that...Sean?"

"Yes. He managed to get past the CIA presence we have watching the house, and get to New York City. We retrieved him after the protest though. He isn't very happy about it."

Alfred shrugged. "Well, he's going to have to live with it."

Grendel nodded then put the photo back in his pocket. "That's not why I'm here though. Thought it was only right to give you fair warning. I'll be instituting martial law in a few days."

Alfred's eyes widened in shock, and he dropped the hamburger onto the table. "What? Martial law? No President has done that since the Civil War. Are you sure it's necessary?"

Grendel shook his head sadly. "Look at it Alfred. America is splitting apart at the seams. People hate the government, the economy hasn't been this bad since the Great Depression, violence is growing and regular law enforcement can't keep a lid on it. I'm pulling out all our overseas forces so we can suppress any more major acts of violence in the USA."

Alfred sighed. "Alright Boss, if you think you need to. I'm guessing you want me to tell our allies?"

"Yes. I don't like doing it, but it needs to be done."

Alfred picked up his hamburger and started eating again, though a lot slower than before. "Alright Boss. I'll do it, as much as it rubs me the wrong way. I'm supposed to be the hero. We don't just abandon our allies."

"We aren't abandoning them Alfred. We're just setting our own house back in order before we commit to more activities overseas. They'll understand."

"Well, if you say so Boss."

"Thanks Alfred," replied Grendel before getting up and leaving. Alfred finished his hamburger then went to call the others to tell them. He hoped Grendel had been right.

Grendel was wrong.

* * *

**Year: 2024 Anno Domini**

Alfred sighed as he watched TV. Martial law had not worked as his Boss had hoped. Instead, it had made the situation worse, increasing resentment against the government. Things were just spiraling downhill, and Alfred felt like he wasn't in control anymore, like the USA was hurtling towards disaster and he couldn't stop it.

And to top it off, he felt like he was being watched now. Several times, he had seen a teenager standing across the street, staring at him. It was unnerving, to say the least. And the guy somehow kept escaping the CIA agents that watched Alfred's mansion.

As Alfred sat, his phone rang. "This is Alfred, what is it?"

Dakota's voice came over, obviously a bit scared and in a hurry. "Dad, Christie's collapsed. We don't know what's wrong."

"I'll be right there," said Alfred as he sprang to his feet. Finally, the chance to be a successful hero. He might not be able to save his country in a day, but he could here. He ordered up the driver and then hopped in the car, and they sped off to the house. In his haste, Alfred didn't notice the strange teenager following him.

He arrived at the house and bounded up the steps. He found the door unlocked and ran inside to find Christie on the couch, with the other kids circled around her. He quickly elbowed his way into the circle. "Christie, what happened?"

She smiled weakly as she saw him there. "I don't know, I was just walked, then I felt like something broke inside, and I collapsed. And now you're here."

Alfred frowned. It sounded like what had happened to him last year. He turned on the TV. "Oh my god," he muttered as scenes of devastation played out, with the location being given as California. Cities were burning as buildings collapsed.

"Is...is that," asked Christie weakly.

"Yeah," said Dakota. "What happened?"

Alfred gulped. "The Big One. San Andreas finally went, and it destroyed a ton of the state." He turned around. "I have to go. Organize, get aid there. Something."

He ran away from them, towards the door, before he could reach it though, pain tore through his heart.

"Agh" he gasped, collapsing to his knees. He panted as the pain raced through him. Meanwhile, the others watched as the scenes on the TV shifted to pictures of DC, with an explosion in it. President Grendel had survived, but thousands had been killed when an unknown group had detonated a dirty bomb in the US capital, covering the city in radioactive fallout. The detonation that was currently affecting Alfred. "Ah," hissed Alfred as he struggled to his feet.

Cassie ran over and helped him up. As he steadied himself, Dakota walked over. "Dad, it says that the government can't provide aid to California because of the bomb in DC and the economic trouble."

Alfred grimaced. He knew Grendel had set priorities again, putting DC over California. And the state was probably collapsing into anarchy as they worked on cleaning up the capital. He could hear Christie shakily get to her feet and walk over to him. "Dad, why aren't you helping me?"

"I...I have to help myself first Christie. The country...needs stable leadership."

That just seemed to make her angry. "Bullcrap. When you made the Union, you agreed that we would help each other. But since then, you've just lorded it over the States how you please. You're supposed to help us Dad, but you've been ignoring us like we don't exist. Well, I'm done. No more. I can handle this mess myself. I don't need you dad. This Union is over."

Alfred reeled in shock. He should have expected this, but he didn't, and it hurt. It was treason, mutiny, and he wouldn't allow it.

Reaching down, he pulled a pistol out of his bomber jacket and shakily aimed it at Christie. "No you are not. The Union stays whole while I still live, got it?"

At that, Cassie stopped holding him up and ran over to her sister, while the others present did the same. Sean stepped to the front. "Dad, if we want to leave, you can't stop us. Now drop the gun."

Alfred stared him right in the eye and knew what he had to do. "No. I already fought this war once. I can do it again."

Tex walked up next to Sean and pointed his own gun at Alfred. "You're a lot weaker than last time. You can't stop us all," he replied in a Texan drawl.

"I'm the hero," replied Alfred with a certainty in his voice. "Watch me."

It seemed conflict was imminent. Then, someone tapped Alfred's shoulder. As he spun around to confront whoever it was, he felt a cold steel blade drive itself between his ribs. As pain ripped through him, overshadowing that from the pain in his heart because of the bomb, he saw the leering face of that kid who was always glaring at him from across the street. He could feel the knife twist, tearing at his insides. The gun fell clattering from his hands to the floor, partly from pain and partly from shock.

The kid pulled the knife out with a jerk, and Alfred's left hand flew to the wound to try and staunch the blood. He was busy doing that so he didn't notice the kid step away and Sean take his place. He did notice when Sean delivered a knee to the stomach, causing Alfred to double up even more than he already was, then a left hook to the face, sending Alfred sprawling to the cold floor, pain coursing through him.

"Who...Why...," asked Alfred weakly.

"Why," mocked the kid as he moved into Alfreds field of vision. "Because we're better off without you. Because we don't need you anymore."

"But...but I'm...the hero."

The kid shook his head. "No you aren't, old man. The name's Eagle, and I'm the hero now."

Alfred's head fell as blood trickled from the wound. He didn't move as Tex walked by and kicked his body lying there on the floor.

"Come on. Let's go," called Eagle as he walked out of the house with Sean and Tex. The others followed, some quicker than others, jut leaving Alfred lying there on the floor by himself, the floor soaked red with blood.

* * *

"Hello, this is 911."

"Yes, I'd like to report a stabbing. There's a lot of blood, and I don't think he's going to make it."

"Alright, calm down ma'am. Can you tell me your address?"

"Yes, it's 420, Fielder Drive, Rocky Mount, North Carolina."

"Alright, we're dispatching an ambulance. Stay with us ma'am. Can you try to staunch the bleeding?"

"I...I'm... **click**"

"Ma'am? Ma'am?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter will basically wrap up the pre-game setup. I request reviews, just so I know if people like this or not. I'll go on without them, but they'd be appreciated.**

**Warnings: Angst, arson, swearing, kidnapping, Alfred-whump**

**I own nothing, sadly. I know some people who would be happy if I did.  
**

* * *

"_The pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body"_

Publilius Syrus

Alfred felt himself floating in and out of consciousness as he laid bleeding on the floor of the house. _They...they just...left. I...I can't believe it. But, I'm the...hero._ Meanwhile, the military, rational part of his mind, honed from over two hundred years of history, was screaming at him that he was falling into shock from blood loss.

The door slammed open, but he was too weary to even react if that were possible. The pounding of feet reached him, and he caught snatches of words. "Alright, we need to staunch the bleeding." He could tell that somehow, somebody had found out what had happened, and now they were trying to save him. Then, he fell back into blackness.

The next thing he remembered was being in a hospital on a gurney. He could tell he was still in danger, as activity was frantic around him. He tried to move, to talk, but he couldn't. It felt like his limbs were lead. "His vitals are stabilizing, but they're still dangerously low. We need to get him a blood transfusion. Now."

Alfred noticed his vision going black again. As he did, the activity increased, if that were possible. "Shit, he's crashing. I need a defib!" He then faded out again.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he emerged from the darkness to find himself in a hospital bed. Woozy, he tried to talk, with the end result being something of a groan as he rapidly blinked from the sudden brightness of the lights. This was a bit of a shock when somebody who was sitting next to him leapt to awakeness or something.

"Oh. Hey. Alfred. Guys, he's awake! Get in here!" Alfred could hear activity as people gathered around. He tried to sit up, but was restrained by the person sitting next to him.

"Who," he asked weakly. A head filled up his vision, and he tried to smile. "Iggy."

Francis coughed from over to the side. "Hello, I am here as well. Matthew said he would be here as soon as he can. He's been busy since you got hospitalized."

Alfred smiled, glad that they were there. Then what Francis had said hit him. "Wait, you guys can see Matt now?"

Francis nodded before turning his attention to the window. "Long story. Your President can fill you in."

Arthur spoke up sadly. "Alfred, things have...changed, since you were hospitalized."

Alfred turned his attention to Arthur. "How long have I been here?"

Arthur averted his eyes. "Alfred, it's 2025. It's been a couple months. We almost lost you a few times."

Alfred tried to leap up in shock. "What? I've been in the hospital for almost a year? I need to get back out there."

He was stopped when the door slammed open and President Grendel walked in. The President broke into a smile, although he was looking more worn and haggard than when Alfred had seen him last. "Alfred, it's good to have you back. Things have changed, and not for the better."

"Tell me," demanded Alfred.

"Alright. After the bomb attack on DC, we instituted harsher military controls. We had to assure the public that another attack like that wouldn't happen. It made sense, at the time. But not to the extremists that have been popping up everywhere. They decried the move as tyranny on the part of the government and began fighting with our armed forces. We tried to stop them, but we were unable. The USA is falling apart Alfred, and I don't know if I can stop it."

Alfred grimaced. He'd known it would be bad, but not this bad. "What's left?"

Grendel wiped his brow. "Um, West Virginia, Kentucky, Maryland, part of Pennsylvania, part of Delaware, and part of Virginia."

Alfred felt his heart plummet. "So little left. How can we hope to restore the Union?"

He was answered when Matthew came in through the door, followed by three others. "Sorry I'm late guys. Oh, Alfred," said the Canadian happily, running over to Alfred. "I was so glad when they had said you'd woken up."

Alfred looked Matthew over with an appraising eye. The young man had grown up, getting fuller muscles, more height, and hair that was a bit longer. However, Alfred could tell that he was busy also, due to a slight circle of blue around his eyes from overwork, lack of sleep, or both. Alfred knew how it felt.

Alfred tried to crack a smile. "So, where's the bear?"

"Oh, Kumijarou? I had to leave him outside. He's grown into an adult bear, so I can't take him into hospitals,' replied Matthew, nodded towards the window. Then, one of the people he had come in with tapped him on the shoulder and he leapt up as one of the other reasons he was here came back to mind.

"Oh, Arthur, Francis. Yao finally signed on. The resolution finally passed," said Matthew happily

Alfred looked at all three of them with a confused look on his face. "Um, what are you talking about? A Security Council resolution? Don't you need me for that?"

All three of them blushed, realizing they hadn't told him. "Oh, um, Alfred," replied Matthew. "Under the general agreement of the UNSC, until such time as the US Separatist states are reintegrated into the union, I have been given temporary control over the US Security Council seat, since I'm the strongest power in North America now."

Alfred blinked in astonishment. He couldn't really think of anything to say. The rational part of him understood it, but the rest of his mind was yelling insults on how he could still do the job needed.

Matthew turned waved his arms at the three people behind him, each of whom stepped forward when introduced. "Alfred, may I present Eric Starck, Emma Carolingus, who are the personifications of the United Nations Stabilization Mission to the United States and the European Union Task Force respectively, and General Walter Harrison, who will be the Commander of the Mission."

"It's good to meet you Alfred," said Harrison as he stepped forward. "We'll be cooperating a lot in the future. Together, we can bring back the Union."

"Right," replied Alfred as he shook the mans hand.

"We'll be sending what we can with Emma, but the economic crash has hurt our economies as well, and we need time to recover. And after the causalities in the Second Korean War, the public is less happy with the deployment of troops, even in support of the USA. People still support you, but they see this complete dissolution as a sign that your people no longer support your government," commented Arthur.

Alfred felt himself get angry, and the heartbeat monitor began beeping more rapidly. "No way Arthur. The majority of my people are still loyal. They've just been led astray by treasonous elements out for their own gain, who seek to get power by illegally breaking off from the United States. They took advantage of the nations weakness after the economic crash and the attack on DC. We get rid of them and the people will come right back."

Arthur moved back a bit as Alfred's anger blazed. He could tell the American was putting up a tough front, maybe even deluding himself. He didn't want to believe what had happened to him, to the Union, and so he was like this. "Right Alfred," he muttered.

Grendel nodded in support. "Don't worry. We'll get them back."

Just then, an aide came in. "President Grendel, General Dixon wants to talk to you about the possibility of increasing our intelligence capability in the Eagle Republic. He says it's urgent."

Grendel sighed. 'Of course it is." He looked over at Alfred. "I need to deal with this. I'll be back later." He then left the room in a hurry.

Matthew sighed. "I have to go too. I just had to come here and see for myself that you were awake Alfred. I'm sorry man, but I'm super busy these days."

Alfred nodded. "I bet. Don't worry. It'll be easier for you once I get out of here and can start dealing with these rebels myself. They'll feel the wrath of a truly United States."

Matthew sighed. Despite what had happened, Alfred was still the same. Instead of responding, he just nodded and exited the room at a near run.

Francis moved away from the window. "I should be going as well. Until next time Alfred," he said before following Matthew out the door.

Harrison nodded. "Right, Eric, Emma, we need to work out deployment orders. See you soon Alfred.' With the two in tow, he exited the room, and only Arthur was left.

Arthur looked at the ground. This was a bit embarrassing for him. "Um, Alfred. What happened? The police have some guesses, but nothing certain."

Alfred shuddered. Going back to the thoughts, the memories. It hurt, so much. But someone had to know the betrayal, and to do that he'd have to tell them. "They stabbed me in the back Iggy,' he said sadly, keeping tears from welling up in his eyes. "Christie collapsed when the San Andreas went off. They called me for help, so I went. You know, what a hero is supposed to do. Then, the bomb went off. They heard that we couldn't give aid to California because of the attack. Politicians and their priorities. Christie decided she didn't want to be part of the Union anymore, and the others agreed with her. I tried to stop them, but Eagle... He snuck up behind me and stabbed me. Then they left me to die."

At that point Alfred was about an inch away from crying, and Arthur could see that, and it shocked him. Alfred was always the strong one, the optimist, the one who kept them up when they were feeling bad through some bloody prank or joke. And to see him reduced to this, it was...hard.

"Not all of them,' he muttered.

Alfred sniffed as he focused on that. "What?"

"Somebody, a woman, called 911 to say that she witnessed a stabbing at the house we found you in. If she hadn't, they wouldn't have found you in time. At least one of them still cares about you Alfred," replied Arthur softly.

That seemed to calm Alfred down a bit. "Really? At least it isn't everyone." He turned his thoughts to who it could be. Definitely not Christie, which left Alice, Nadia, Cassie, and Hawaii. Although it probably wasn't Nadia, since she thought his government had betrayed it's people and sold out to foreign interests. So, he'd put his bets on Cassie or Hawaii. No offense to Alice, but she was pretty soft spoken.

Arthur nodded. "Don't worry. We'll do what we can. You've helped us out of our binds, it's only fair we return the favor. The UNSMUS is going to go in and clean up the radiation left in DC, then they'll help in combat operations with you."

Alfred felt some of the heavy sadness leave him. "Thanks Arthur. It means a lot right now."

Arthur patted his hand, as a voice came over the intercom. "Visiting hours are over, visiting hours are over." Arthur stood up to leave. "I'll be back tomorrow Alfred," he promised.

Alfred nodded, sad to see him go, but glad that he would be back. "Alright, see yah then Iggy," he replied, trying to inject cheer into his voice.

Arthur felt his spirits rise even as the name grated against him. _Maybe he hasn't changed after all_. With that thought, he departed, leaving Alfred alone to wait and recover.

Despite what he said, he did not return the next day.

* * *

A long time had passed for the young nation personifications. They had spent time tearing down the structures left from the USA that they did not approve of and putting new ones in place. They had been joined by another one of their number, Norman, who had appeared apparently in response to Sean setting up his version of a socialist democracy. Things had changed for all of them.

And now, Eagle had called them all to Alfred's house, the last remaining reminder in the land they controlled of the former USA. Christie was still suffering from a large civil war and was unable to come, but everyone else was there to finish what they had started.

"Time to burn this place to the ground," said Eagle as they looked at the large mansion. "The old America is dead. Time to remove the last vestiges of it, for us and our future."

Sean, Tex, and Norman, standing next to him, agreed. Eagle was the oldest despite not appearing first. He looked a lot like Alfred, but continually blamed Alfred for the failures that led to their creation. Sean, on the other hand, was an idealist who believed that the people desired a new order of fairness and equality, the fairness that socialism could bring. He was dressed in jeans and a t shirt, the clothes of the proletariat. Tex looked almost like a cowboy from the movies, with a big hat and guns in holsters on his belt. Norman was dressed in a military dress uniform, all prim and proper, adorned with medals he had made for himself.

Dakota stepped up to join them. "You know, there's probably some valuable stuff in there. Should we really burn it all?"

Sean nodded. "For a fresh start for our people, yes."

Norman smirked. "But if you want some souvenirs of what we're about to do, go ahead."

Dakota nodded in thanks and headed into the mansion, followed by Hawaii, Nadia, Cassie, and Louis. Walking in, the sound of their feet on the marble floor echoed through the empty rooms. With Alfred in the hospital and the USA falling apart, the people who tended to the place had all gone home, leaving the building empty.

The four of them walked through the various rooms, looking at the house they were getting a good look at for the first, and last time. It was amazing what was in Alfred's house. A large copy of _Washington Crossing the Delaware_ hung from one of the walls. There was pottery, a smaller scale replica of the Statue of Liberty,

Walking through one of the larger room, Nadia saw a thirteen starred flag in a picture frame. Stopping to look at it, she realized that this must be one of the ones Alfred had from the Revolutionary War. Shame for a symbol of how America used to be to be destroyed like that, so she walked over and pulled the frame off the wall to carry with her.

Walking around, Dakota wandered into a smaller room and stopped in surprise. "Wow, look at all that stuff," he commented in an awed voice. Facing him was a wide array of weapons that made up Alfred's armory. Hawaii heard him and joined him at staring at everything that Alfred had collected in his two hundred plus years of being a nation. They began walking through the racks to see the full extent of the collection.

Dakota stopped in front of a display case and stared at the contents through the glass. Inside were two six-shooters, dressed with gold around the butt. There was a plaque on the case that said _"__We are rough men and used to rough ways.__ - Bob Younger"_. Dakota grabbed a bar, smashed the glass, and reverently picked up both of them before holstering them. He could say that they looked cool, but they had a special connection to him as well, as relics of the Wild West era of American history. He'd just have to keep Tex from taking them for himself, but he thought he could handle that.

Hawaii was in a different part of the room, finding a different weapon that related to her own heritage. In another display case was a Thompson Submachine gun, a plaque on it that said, "_Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle. -General George S. Patton". _Hawaii broke open this display case and slung the Thompson onto her back. This was a link to her own World War 2 heritage, especially with Japan.

Canvassing the entire room, the two met back up at the entrance. "I think that's been long enough," said Dakota. "We've looked at most of the house. Let's go."Hawaii agreed, and they began heading back to the entrance. Along the way, they linked up with Nadia, and the three of them left together to find Norman pouring the last container of gasoline around the base of the house.

Eagle looked over their items with a smirk on his face. "So, saved enough of the old man's stuff?"

Dakota ignored him. "Let's get it over with," he said emotionlessly.

"Alright," said Sean, pulling out a lighter. He opened it and snapped the wheel so a flame came out. "With the flame of the people, we put an end to the United States of America."

Norman snorted. "Drop the damned lighter already."

Sean shot him a glare, angry at being interrupted, before tossing the lighter. It landed in a gasoline soaked bush, which quickly went up in flames before jumping to the house. As the flames greedily licked at the walls and the items inside, the nations present lined up to watch it burn.

"For the Eagle Republic," said Eagle triumphantly.

"For the Socialist States of America," echoed Sean.

"For the Northern Federation," added Norman.

"For Texas," yelled Tex, firing off a pistol while he did so.

"For Dakota," said Dakota coldly, ignoring Tex's antics.

"For the National Party of America," included Nadia, proudly holding the flag she had taken from the burning house.

"For Louisiana," said Louisiana, trying to stay away from Eagle and Tex.

"For Hawaii," commented Hawaii a bit reluctantly.

"And for Christie," finished Eagle.

They all stood looking at the house for a few more seconds before Dakota asked. "Guys, where are Cassie and Alice?"

* * *

As the house burned, in a hospital far away, Alfred's eyes flew wide and he screamed in pain as his memories burned, bringing every nurse nearby.

* * *

**A bit earlier**

"Wow, this place is so big," said Cassie in awe as she and Alice walked through Alfred's mansion. They had split off from Dakota, Nadia, and Hawaii to explore the other areas of the house. They had seen some other interesting artifacts, such as a piece of debris from the Twin Towers, and a torn flag from the Civil War.

As they passed another room in a long corridor, they heard a crash, the sound of breaking porcelain, and rapid swearing in Russian. The two girls share a look before heading in the direction of the sounds.

Pausing at the door, they could hear someone muttering, "Ah, so that's where it is. Alfred really should have returned my things." The man with the voice then began walking towards the door that the two girls were behind.

They quickly moved away and ducked around a corner to keep tabs on the strange man who knew their dad. Watching they saw a man emerge from the room. He was dressed in a tan uniform of sorts, although it wasn't a style either Alice or Cassie had seen before. He had a white scarf wrapped around his neck, and had a pistol in a holster on his belt. He stopped, as if he sensed their presence.

"Hello, you are coming out of your hiding spot, da? I know you are there," he called.

Alice and Cassie watched as the man began walking towards them. Not seeing any other options, they sheepishly stepped around the corner so he could see them. "Hello,' said Cassie nervously. Alice was too shy to speak.

"Oh, hello there. I am hoping you are not associated with the hooligans outside," replied the Russian man.

Cassie nodded. "We're related, both of us."

The Russian man frowned. "And surely you do not support the idea of burning all this history to the ground, merely for the sake of spiting Alfred, da?"

Cassie wasn't sure. "I...I don't think so. But, I couldn't stop them even if I wanted."

The Russian Man grimaced. "Simpleminded fools. Destroying your history does not make you a great nation. I should know that. Forgetting where you came from only weakens you. It is through the tough history of the Russian people that I have become what I am today." He fell silent as he realized what he had been doing. "I apologize for that. I get angry, I rant a bit, da?"

Cassie nodded, a bit scared of the big man now. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I apologize, did I not introduce myself, I am Ivan Braginski. And I think we should leave now before they burn this place down around our heads. Come on, come on," said Ivan as he started walking to the nearest exit.

They exited just in time to see the blossoming orange of the fire. Ivan shook his head. "They do not understand the real world. Idealism will get them nowhere. Alfred has shielded you all from the realities of what the world is like. I fear you all are not ready yet."

He looked at the two of them with a dangerous glint in his eyes, which they did not notice. "Do not worry though, I, Ivan Braginski, will help you."

They continued walking through the estate, until they reached a limousine that was sitting on the driveway. Ivan opened the door and the two girls got in, a bit apprehensively. Ivan got in as well and slammed the door shut, before the car started driving away. Inside, they found there was already someone there, but he ignored them.

Ivan sat down, opened up the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He popped it open and poured himself a glass. "Vodka," he asked, offering it to the two girls, but neither of them accepted. "Alright then," he replied, before taking a shot and feeling the soothing burn down his throat.

He talked as he poured himself another. "So, I am going to help you, to prepare you to be real countries in the international community. There are things you need to know before you step off on the path of independence, things I can teach you that I have learned from my long history. How does that sound?"

Cassie thought about that. They could use some help in setting up, especially with the refugees coming in from California. But then again, this was Russia, her dad's greatest enemy. But then again that was a long time ago, so maybe he had changed. "I guess so," she replied.

"Excellent." Ivan smiled before downing another shot of vodka. "However, I am Russia, so I am very busy. I will be unable to be with you for the entire time. Because of this, I will need to appoint someone as an envoy in my place." He motioned to the man in the corner of the car, who woke up and straightened at that. "Let me introduce you to my cousin Kome. He will be your adviser and protector when I am not around. He knows a lot, listen to him."

Kome was dressed in a uniform of the Russian Federation, with a red scarf around his neck. He looked a lot like Ivan, but there were some height differences as well as build. He tipped his hat to Alice and Cassie, but he didn't look very comfortable around them.

Ivan continued. "There is one...other matter. We will need to negotiate a treaty between my government and whatever governments you have, a treaty of friendship. We would like to have access to some military bases on your land, for the Task Force we will be deploying into North America. Actually, Kome will be coming with the Task Force to manage combat operations in the event they need to fight."

Cassie nodded. She had already agreed to have his help, what was one thing more like that. "I guess," she agreed a bit sadly.

Kome smiled as he took yet another shot. He seemed to be inhaling the vodka. "Very good." He picked up the phone and said to the driver, "Pull over here."

The car pulled to a halt outside a restaurant. Ivan got up and put the vodka back. "I will let you three talk. I have some other business to attend to. Until we meet next," he said before exiting the car, leaving the three backseat occupants to awkwardly converse.

As the car pulled away, Ivan muttered to himself. "Soon, da, all of the America's will be one with Mother Russia."

* * *

**A/N: **A bit on the names of the UNSMUS and EUTF. Starck is a (mostly) anagram of the last names of the winners of World War 2 (Stalin, Truman, Attlee, Roosevelt, and Churchill. And if you feel like finishing it, Khrushchev). Since they set up the UN, it made sense for the UNSMUS to have some link to all of them. And for Emma, Carolingus was the house of Charlemagne, the man who could be said to have established the first European Union. So, in honor of her legacy, she has his house name as her last name.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So yeah, as you can see, this took a while. On the other hand, while you were waiting, I finished NaNoWriMo, so I feel safe ignoring your complaints about time, not that there are any. And thanks to Nokturna168 and YouFall9Times for being the only people to review this, though I sort of made YouFall9Times do it, but details. On to the story. **

**Warnings: Swearing**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

"_But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for" - Paulo Coelho_

**Year: 2025 Anno Domini**

Alfred rode silently in the back of the armored limousine as it wound it's way through Kentucky to the house he had in the state. His great nation, reduced to a mere handful of states. The rest of the country rising up in rebellion against him. And his own family, stabbing him in the back and leaving him for dead. He couldn't tear his mind from those thoughts.

Through the curving mountains they went. Alfred had just been released from the hospital, and had finished physical therapy. His chest still bore the scar from the stab wound, and it occasionally itched and burned, a sign of the border clashes to the south between what remained of the USA and the "Eagle Republic".

Finally, they arrived at his house. To be fair, it was more of a hunting lodge, which he used when he wanted to be in the outdoors, remembering his old pioneering days, but now he would have to live here. It had been refurbished and received an upgrade, so he wouldn't be too out of touch here. With the condition the nation was in, he couldn't afford that.

With the limousine rolled up on the driveway, Alfred got out and went to the trunk to get his bags. There wasn't much, since his house had been a total loss. He picked up the bags and walked to the door. Opening it, he skipped his traditional entry remarks. There was no one there to hear it after all.

At least, that was what he thought until he heard a "Hello sir" as Horatio came around the corner, looking as impeccable as ever.

Alfred broke into a smile. "Dude, you're still here? Sweet. I thought everyone had left."

Horatio shook his head as he took Alfred's bags. "The Crown is doing fine sir, besides the spot of economic trouble, so there was no reason for me to return to my homeland."

"Well, I'm glad for that." Alfred followed him through the house, not really supervising and more remembering what the place looked like. Being busy the past few years meant he hadn't had a chance to be here a lot. It brought back memories of his old exploring days. Going off into the wilderness beyond the Appalachians and exploring the continent. Good memories, when he was growing, becoming stronger, vibrant, better than he was now.

Horatio put his bags in is room, before turning to face Alfred. "Will you be needing anything else sir?"

Alfred was about to shake his head, but then thought better of it. "How about a cheesebruger? I haven't had one of those in a while."

Horatio nodded. "I'll be right on it sir." He went on to explain. "We're some distance away from the nearest McDonalds, which has been seeing some financial trouble as of late with the collapse, and we haven't gotten around to hiring a new cook yet."

Alfred grimaced. "Great. Another thing they've taken from me. Well, get it when you can. I've gone these past months without it, I suppose I can wait another half hour. Stupid hospital food."

Horatio smiled. "Very well sir." He bustled off to go make Alfred's meal.

Alfred wandered around the house, unsure of what to do. He was waiting for Grendel to contact him, and he wasn't sure what else to do. He wasn't going to watch the news, as that just brought the pain right back home. And he needed to be strong. If they knew he had survived, he couldn't let them think that he was weak, or they would come back to finish the job. So no crying, or other signs of weakness. He thought about playing video games or reading a book, but he just didn't have it in him to do so. All he could think about were those images, and how he would make them regret doing what they did to him.

His musings were interrupted as Horatio came back with a burger, soda, and fries. "The usual sir," he said to Alfred, placing the tray on a table. Alfred looked over at Horatio. "Thanks."

"No problem sir," said Horatio with a bow before withdrawing, leaving Alfred to his meal.

The American sat down at the table, looking over the meal. Nothing was wrong with it in the least. He just wasn't sure if he wanted it any more. He couldn't help but think of it as a remnant of a better time. He shook his head. He needed to keep his strength up to fight, so he went ahead, stoically eating the hamburger.

As he was on the fries, the doorbell rang. He stayed where he was, knowing that Horatio would get it. He kept on calmly eating until a familiar face was led into the room, and Alfred immediately switched to hero mode, a trick he had learned in times of crisis so nobody would see him as weak. A hero had to be strong after all.

"Hey Eric," said Alfred as he lounged on the couch. "I'd get up and greet you, but apparently I'm not supposed to exacerbate my condition, or something like that."

"That's alright," replied Eric, walking over to a chair. "Do you mind?" When Alfred shook his head, the young man sat down.

Alfred gave him an appraisal. Eric was of a moderate build, with Alfred's blond hair, Arthur's thick eyebrows, and Ivan's dark blue eyes. For he was a creation of all the Allied powers, forged from the fires of World War 2. Sure, he was ignored a lot, but he was still vital for the peace that had been maintained so far. And now he found himself important again, leading a worldwide task force to come into the United States to ed the chaos.

"So, what brings you to the Heroes base," asked Alfred to Eric, who looked a bit uncomfortable being there right now.

"Well, um, we need to discuss the cooperation between your government and the UNSMUS," explained Eric, being somewhat uncomfortable with his newfound status of authority. America used to be so overly daunting, and he didn't always listen to Eric or even bother telling him things he should know, so it was strange treating the American as an equal, and not a superior.

"Yeah, what about it," asked Alfred.

Eric tried to phrase this as best he could. "You see, um, well, uh, so, we'd like to be helping you, but we need to clean our deployment zone of radiation first, o it's going to be some time before we can come in and really help you. Hope you don't mind."

Alfred shrugged and let out a sigh. "Well, I can understand Arthur and Francis not wanting their guys to horribly die of radiation poisoning. How long will it take?"

"Well, with the radiation cleanup and fixing the damage from looters and such, we're thinking a couple of years, maximum."

Alfred wanted to get angry, to yell and say that he probably wouldn't make it for a couple years, that his kids would roll in and destroy his country before they could finish, But, he just didn't have it in him right now. "Well, I've made it this far, what's a couple years or so?"

Eric nodded, glad that America understood. He got up. "Well, that was everything. I should be going now."

Alfred leapt up, despite his earlier statements about the injury. "Hey man, what's the rush? Why don't you stick around for the bit? I've been cooped up in that hospital for so long that I'm a bit out of touch."

Eric shook his head. "I really need to get back. There are a lot of details to attend to, and I don't have a lot of free time.

"Alright then. Don't be a stranger," commented Alfred as Eric left. Inside though, the hero wasn't feeling too good. He hated to admit it, but he was lonely. He could only really talk to the other nations, since they could share in the common secret, but they had been so busy in the recent years that he'd had to console himself with video games and the internet. Even Tony had vanished off to who knows where.

He sighed. Well, Eric was gone now. Without much thought as to what to do, he walked over to a desk and slid open a drawer, pulling out an old leather bound Bible. In need of the comfort, he began to read. "In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the Earth... "

* * *

After burning down Alfred's house, most of the new nations had gone home to manage their own affairs. Despite successful secession, there was still a lot of things to do, especially with regards to making sure their economies didn't crash and burn, since no one would trade with them as they weren't recognized nations.

Still, despite this they found time to hang out once in a while at a sort of agreed upon neutral ground for the group. Namely, Tim Hortons. They were all there today, having made their way from their separate nations, and were seated at a large table they had made from some smaller ones pushed together. Each of them had their own snack, and were conversing on general happenings.

"So Sean, how goes life in that shithole you call a utopia," asked Norman with a smirk, knowing it would get Sean riled up.

Sean clenched his fist around the cup he was holding as he shot Norman a murderous glance. "Considering a lot of industry got wrecked by the remnants of the US Army, pretty well. Especially now that we're free, and not a totalitarian dictatorship like your government."

Norman replied, offended. "Hey, my Boss was democratically elected. At least we don't have a King." Both Sean and Norman glared at Christie.

Christie shrugged. "Hey, he's who won the war. What am I supposed to do about it?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "Get rid of him? The original rebellion was to free us from the Monarchy, and you've set one up again. You realize how stupid that is?"

Christie fingered the cavalry saber on her belt. "Like I said, he won the war. I can't just get rid of him, not when he's rebuilding the nation."

Eagle, seated in the back, held up a hand. "Guys, calm down. Seriously. No one's going to recognize us as nations if we keep fighting amongst ourselves. Besides, we still need to finish off the USA."

Norman snorted. "The USA. Alfred's long dead, and his nation will go soon. And if we need to finish them, why don't you just roll across the border and do it, instead of this covert war you have going with them?"

"Because Eagle's afraid he'll get his ass whupped in the mountains," said Tex loudly, his feet propped up on the table.

"No, it's because it's less simple than that, and you know it," replied Eagle as he stood up. "Sure, Alfred's been beaten. But his people haven't been broken, and my people don't see the USA as a threat. Until I can give them a legitimate cause for war, until I can give the world a legitimate cause for war, I can't finish him. Sure, I'm the Hero now, but the Hero still has to be responsible to the people he protects. Our old man didn't understand that, and that's why we had to leave."

Louis looked over at Eagle. "Hey 'Hero'. While you're at it, can you get Tex here to stop trying to take Oklahoma from me? Not my fault they chose to join my country instead of his."

"Come on man, I just want the Panhandle. It don't fit in with your natural borders anyways."

Nadia scooted closer to Tex. "And why's that? You want to be closer to me? Maybe even join me in a...personal union," she asked with a smirk on her face, causing Tex to back away from her as fast as he could.

"Hell no! Why would I ever do that? You practically still belong to Alfred, what with all your espousing about restoring the Union under the National Party of America. It's like you're working for him, helping him."

Nadia felt herself getting angry. "No way am I helping that traitor. His government betrayed the people, betrayed the ideals of America. But the National Part is restoring them. Course, that includes restoring the Union, so you guys may as well just save your nations some trouble and give up now."

She was met with a collective "Never!"

Meanwhile, Dakota was off to the side in his own thoughts. They had finally found out where Cassie and Alice had gone off to, and he was worried about them. From what he had heard, Ivan wasn't exactly the role model they might want to be following. But what could he do about it? The Russian could kick his ass if he tried attacking to get them back.

Christie could read his expression and guessed what he was thinking of. "Don't worry, we'll get them back somehow."

Dakota nodded silently, not sure how they would do it but glad to have the support.

Meanwhile, the arguments had continued, with Norman and Sean going at each other again, while Tex and Louis were arguing with the occasional interjection from Eagle. And all of them were arguing with Nadia. It was getting louder, but no one had drawn a weapon or hit anyone else...yet.

Finally, one of the workers there came over, obviously a bit intimidated by the large group. "Um, excuse me. We've had complaints from the other customers about the noise. If you can't quiet down then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"That's alright. We were just about to leave anyway," replied Eagle, unofficially calling the get together to a close. Each of them went off, throwing out their garbage and heading back to their respective nations. And it was doubtful that any of them had had a good time.

* * *

Cassie was dreaming. She knew that. Mostly because Dad was there, and the entire extended family, and they were sitting around a large table eating. There was ham, pancakes, orange juice, Dad's ever present hamburgers, steak, and some other things. Everyone was having fun, laughing, talking, and just having a good time. Not like now, when she didn't even know how Dad was doing, if he was dead or not. Still, it was a happy dream, until it was rudely interrupted.

There was a sharp piercing whistle, and her eyes flew open to see Kome standing in the door, dressed in his Russian Army uniform. "Awake Американцы, Today is the day we begin your training," he said loudly.

Cassie groaned and looked over at the clock, seeing that it was 5AM. "Seriously? I'm no stranger to hard work, but it's still a bit early, isn't it," she asked with a groan.

Kome advanced from the door, walking to her bed. "No, it is never to early to train. The enemy will not wait for you to wake up. In fact, he will capitalize on the bodies necessity for sleep, will attack at night, when your men are least alert. So you must be ready to fight at any and all times. Now move."

"Fine," replied Cassie as she rolled over and got out of bed. To her left, Alice was doing the same thing.

Currently, they were in the house Cassie had in Washington State. Kome had thought it best that they train on their land, so they would know the terrain, the defensible positions, and so they could be closer to the people they were defending. Cassie thought that that was reasonable. But then, why wouldn't it be? The Russian had a lot more experience than she did.

Apparently though, she wasn't fast enough for the Russian, who pulled out a pistol and began firing it erratically. "Come on," he yelled. "The enemy is attacking, your comrades are being overwhelmed as we speak. Move! Move!"

Cassie glanced up to see no bullet holes in the ceiling. So he was using blanks, that was good. At least that bit was reasonable, unlike him firing off a gun and yelling at her to move. Seriously? There was being realistic, but this was ridiculous. Nobody would get this far into the state without facing armed opposition. Especially now that Russian troops had taken up position inside the state.

Finally, she and Alice were dressed and outside. Kome walked in front of them, a watch in his hand to check the time. "Not good enough,' said the Russian. "We will need to work on that. Now, we run. Follow."

With that, he turned around and headed away from the house into the Cascadian wilderness. Sighing, Cassie followed after, the chill of the morning cooling her skin and raising goosebumps. Still, the air was crisp, and bracing, waking her up quickly as they moved, and she was able to keep up with Kome, Alice a bit behind.

On and on they went, round trees, over ridges, along streams. Time passed, one hour, two, and still they went on. Kome had gone on, the iron soldier, keeping the same pace as when he had started, but Cassie had fallen back seeing Alice lagging. Neither of them had had breakfast before setting out, and they usually did that before physical activity like this.

Eventually though, they reached their destination. Kome moved to the middle of a clearing, surrounded by trees, Cassie and Alice following as they got their breath back.

"Very good,'"said the Russian as he turned to face them. "Now, more work. More training." He walked over to a thick tree branch and tested it's strength. Satisfied that it would hold, he pointed to Cassie. "You first. 300 pull ups. Go," he ordered in with what English he knew. He had learned it once upon a time, back in the Second world War, but he had lost it as the Cold War dragged on. And now he was learning again.

Cassie rolled her eyes and walked over to the tree branch. "Alright, this is easy," she said aloud as she began moving up and down, her arms flexing as she lifted her head above the branch at an even pace.

Kome walked in front of her. "400," he said succinctly.

That made Cassie pause, hanging from the branch. "Excuse me?"

"That's, 'Alright, this is easy SIR'," said Kome, correcting her.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "You're going to be that kind of military officer? Alright, SIR," she responded with a bit of vitriol in her voice as she got moving again. If the Russian wanted to be a hard ass in all this, she would just have to be the best for him.

Kome walked around her, making sure she had the correct posture for her pull ups, before walking over to Alice, who was standing a ways away in the clearing. He walked around her as he had with Cassie, giving Alice a bit more distress than Cassie had had.

"Hm, push ups. 200," ordered Kome.

Alice nodded meekly and began doing the push ups. Kome watched for a moment as she moved before he he began barking out commands to 'straighten your posture,' 'arms fully extended,' 'keep a steady pace'. Alice wordlessly responded, cowed by the strict Russian pacing around her. He walked back and forth, keeping an eye on the two. They needed to know discipline, if they were to be strong.

Alice finished first, and stood quietly to the side as Kome stalked back to watch Cassie, ensuring she was working her hardest. He then walked back over to Alice, ready to give her another task. "Now, you do pull ups as well. 300."

Alice, sweating a bit from the exercise, didn't disagree and began doing pull ups on a different branch. After Cassie had finished, Kome had her do push ups as well. Once they were both done with their respective tasks, Kome moved on and had them do an obstacle course he had set up recently, which he had not let them see beforehand. They had to climb a rope fence, crawl under barbed wire, real at that, run through tires, dodge swinging sandbags, and various other things, which left them each with an assortment of bumps and bruises. Kome watched indifferently, yelling at them as they moved

Finally they finished, both of them taking in deep breathes of air at the end. Kome walked up to them. "Now, you swim," he said, motioning for them to follow him. Cassie and Alice shared a glance, wondering what he could be wanting them to do this time, and followed after.

Kome arrived at the head of a river, which flowed down towards the sea, tranquil at this point, but becoming rougher later. With a quick movement, he took off his dog tags and held them over the water, making sure Alice and Cassie got a good look, before tossing them in the river.

"Well," he commented with a wave of his arm. "Go get them."

Cassie rolled her eyes yet again before jumping into the river, followed by Alice. The river was cold, and Cassie could feel the goose bumps rising as she started swimming, looking for the dog tags reflecting in the sunlight. She cut quickly through the water, her eyes darting left and right. Alice followed behind, making sure she hadn't missed it by accident. Both of them were used to cold water, so this wasn't too difficult.

She spotted the tags, floating on the surface of the river nearing the rapids, and went after them. She managed to grab them and started back up the stream to where Kome was waiting. As she went, she didn't notice Alice fall behind until she called out.

"Cassie, help," said Alice before she was pulled into the rapids by the rivers current. All that physical activity without breakfast and right after waking up had finally taken it's toll, making her not realize how strong the current was until it was too late.

Cassie swore and turned around, heading after her. Damn that Russian. He should have known better. What she couldn't see at the moment was that Kome had heard it too. Realizing his mistake, he had started running down the river bank, stripping off his jacket as he ran before diving into the water. Being Russian, he was also used to the cold water, and he slid almost effortlessly through it, catching up with Cassie and quickly passing her.

Going into the rapids, it seemed to not affect him at all as he worked his way through the turbulent water. Dodging around rocks, he grabbed Alice, who was sputtering as she tried to keep her head above water. With her in his firm grasp, he made his way to the bank and tossed her out of the water. She was quickly joined by Cassie and the wet Kome, who grabbed some wood and started a fire so they could warm up.

They sat around in silence for a bit, before Kome looked up at them. "I apologize. I have not had to train youngsters in many years. I sometimes forget myself, da? I have not had to train youngsters your age since the Great Patriotic War. My fathers were the great Russian heroes, Trotsky, Tukhachevsky, Zhukov. They taught me, and now, I pass that on to you. But I forget youth sometimes. I am not old by nation standards, but I am not the youngster I was back in the war against Ludwig."

"So, you aren't just the Russian Task Force are you," asked Cassie.

Kome shook his head. "Da. I am the Russian Army, in it's glory. As strong as Ivan was, the war with the Nazi's left him stretched. I was made to fight the war, and he went to manage the political situation and the home front."

Cassie was a bit nervous to ask this next question, but knew she had to. "So, um, what's war like?"

Kome frowned as he looked into the crackling fire which was warming his limbs. "War is unlike anything you will ever experience. There are hours, day, of waiting for the combat, waiting to face down your enemy in a battle that will leave either you or him dead. Then it comes. It seems to last an eternity, but it can be mere minutes or hours. You'll find yourself scared, confused. The world is coming apart around you in explosives, highlighted by the sound of gunfire. Then it is over. If you find yourself holding the field you move forward. If not then you fall back. And so it repeats."

Cassie could see the far off look in his eye, reliving old battles in his mind. He must have seen terrible things, especially knowing the history of the USSR. He was just trying to help after all, despite how he could be. She sighed. They would put up with him.

"Sir," she said to the Russian. "We're still willing to learn from you and your experience. Just, we'll let you know if it gets to be too much okay?"

Kome nodded. "Thank you." Ivan would not appreciate it if he had gotten kicked out. He looked at the two of them. "Alright, we will rest, then we will get back to work, da?" He stood up and motioned for them to follow him. "Come. Breakfast awaits."

With a smile and a nod, Cassie and Alice followed after him, after putting out the fire. Maybe they could make this work after all.

* * *

Американцы = Americana


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So, there will be something very sad in here. Again. Honestly, at this point it shouldn't be a surprise, so I'm not sure why I keep telling you. Without spoiling anything, all I can say is that I did not think this up, so don't rage at me for it. On to the show then.**

**Warnings: Angst, swearing**

**I do not own Hetalia, or anything else worth a significant amount of money.**

* * *

"_An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind_" – Mahatma Gandhi

**Year: 2026 Anno Domini**

Kome watched impassively as Cassie and Alice continued their training. They were coming along well, in his opinion, but there was always room to be better. They weren't the best of friends by any means, but they were willing to listen to him. Right now though, it would be an interesting day since his brother Ivan was coming over from Russia for one of his periodical check ups.

Sadly, he could already anticipate that the meeting would be less than pleasant, since Ivan freaked out Cassie and Alice like he did everyone else besides Kome, who was used to it since he had lived with Ivan since the Second World War. Kome had no idea that he did it to others as well, though he was less casual with throwing it out there, only doing it to enemies, like Hungary in 1956, and Afghanistan in the 1970's. And generally his evil aura was backed up with an AK-47 and the full weight of the Red Army, making his one to avoid at all costs.

He was shaken from his thoughts as a limousine pulled up in front of the house, near the training field. He walked over as the door opened, Ivan stepping out. The Russian was wearing his usual attire, a winter jacket with his white scarf wrapped around his neck.

Stopping in front of each other, Kome moved first, saluting before clasping Ivan's hand. "Brother, it is good to see you again."

Ivan smiled. "Da." He looked over Kome's shoulder to see Alice and Cassie navigating the training course. "So, what do you think of them?"

Kome turned around to watch. "They are learning. Not up to the level of a first world power like us, but they are learning. They will be useful in the future."

Ivan smiled as he watched them work. "Good. Very good. They will be good members of our family." He glanced over at Kome. "I want to talk to my new sisters."

Kome nodded. "Okay. Cassie, Alice, Иди сюда*!"

Leaving off where they were, both girls exited the course and ran over to the two men, slightly panting from the physical exertion they had just been doing, a bit of sweat visible as well. They had been going for a while now, and they appreciated the chance to take a break.

"Hey Mr. Russia," said Cassie, shaking his hand. Alice mumbled something, but she was intimidated by the scary figure, even though he wasn't acting very scary right now.

"Please, call me brother. We are all family, da," replied Russia cheerfully.

"Okay...brother." Cassie tested out the word. She was pretty sure the nation wasn't her brother, as evidenced by the fact that he had never been around before Alfred lost control, but she really didn't want to make him angry and have him withdraw his support for her. She could get involved in the chaos of the Kingdom of the Rising Star. They could try and invade her, for all she knew.

"And what about you? Come on, I'm not that scary," Ivan said to Alice, beaming at the girl behind Cassie.

Cassie nudged Alice out from behind her. "...Hello, brother." Her response was meek, and quiet, so they had to strain to hear it.

And both Alice and Cassie were caught off guard when Ivan moved up and gave them a bone crushing hug. "It is good to be family, da," he said to them, though they couldn't respond since they were both trying to breath.

This continued until Kome tapped Ivan on the shoulder, a subtle message passing between the two, and Ivan stepped back, leaving Cassia and Alice to cough and gasp for air, getting their breath back.

"Let's go inside," said Ivan, heading towards the house without asking anyone else's opinion. The girls were glad to get the break though, so they followed after him. Inside, they all went to sit down in the living room. The girls on the couch, while Ivan sat in a recliner. Kome contented himself with standing in a corner. This wasn't really about him anyway.

"So, how is the building coming along," asked Ivan, sitting with his hands on his knees and not leaning back at all.

"Good Mr. Russ...I mean, Brother," replied Cassie, catching herself in mind sentence. "The aid is helping a lot with keeping our economy going smoothly."

Ivan smiled, not the creepy smile he could get, but a happy smile. "That is good. Despite the general worldwide troubles, we can always spare support for our sisters. Family must stick together. And I assume the government is running smoothly?"

Cassie nodded. "Yes. The advisors have been helpful in getting the administration up and running. Though we have some experience in it, we've never had to run a separate country."

"It is no problem. With our on transition to democracy so recent, we are very qualified in helping you. And we'll do so as long as you need us to."

a silence fell for a few minutes, with Cassie averting her gaze as her fingers ran over the patterns inlaid in the couch, until she glanced back up, nervousness apparently. "Um...Brother, when do we get to go to the world meetings? I know nobody recognizes us as countries, but Sealand and Prussia go, and wouldn't it help prepare us to see what they're like?"

Ivan had been expecting a question like this, and he had an answer already ready. "Eventually. We have to get you completely stabilized. And besides, I'm representing you for now, so you still have a voice there. It's all just a bunch of arguing anyway."

"Alright." Cassie glanced over to Kome to see if he'd support her in this, but he had averted his gaze. His job wasn't to worry about politics, and Ivan was practically his twin. He wouldn't contest a decision the other had made.

Cassie mentally sighed. She should have remembered that Kome was only here because Ivan wanted him to be. It was practically a working relationship, and she shouldn't have expected any assistance from him. It was yet another reminder that she and Alice needed them more than they needed her.

The conversation continued on for a while longer, discussing pleasantries, their training, and the current state of Cascadia and Alaska. That was, unless there was a hammering on the door. "Big brother, I know you're in there. Open this door and let us be one."

At the sound of Natalya's voice, Ivan's face fell into one that Cassie and Alice had never seen before. Namely, fear. And they found it spreading to themselves as well, since if Ivan was afraid of this lady, they wouldn't stand a chance.

Fortunately, Kome took the initiative, moving near the door which was in the process of being hammered by fists. "Ivan, go. I will distract her," ordered Kome. He then glanced at Cassie and Alice. "You two should go as well. She might think you're trying to steal Ivan, and when it comes to him, she's a tad crazy."

Ivan was a bit busy rushing to get out the back entrance to point out that she wasn't just a tad crazy when she got like this, she was more full on insane. Taking her own initiative, Cassie grabbed Alice and went to the basement, making sure to lock the door behind them. With everyone gone, Kome pulled out his Yarygin PYa and made sure it was loaded before unlocking the door, smartly stepping back to avoid getting rammed in the face as it flew open.

"Oh brother, where are you," called Natalya sweetly, almost lovingly if you ignored the purple aura of near pure obsession and evil radiating off of her.

Kome stepped into her path, pistol leveled at her. Natalya, he is not here. Now leave, you are disrupting training."

He suddenly found that the full force of that evil aura was directed at him, but he stood tall. "You lie," she replied angrily. "I know he's here, with those two girls he calls 'sisters'. I will find him, and make him love me more than them, and we will be happy together as one."

"Maybe you will, but not today. Because he is not here," repeated Kome. "Now, leave now or I will shoot you."

He and Natalya stared each other down, Kome ready to pull the trigger and Natalya preparing to grab her knives. That was until they heard the revving of an engine and a car speeding away in the driveway, at which point Natalya spun around to see the car ivan had come in drive away like the dogs of hell were chasing it. She glanced back, shooting daggers at Kome.

"Liar," was all she said, with venom that would have knocked him dead where he stood if it had been real, before she charged out the door, yelling for Ivan to come back.

With a sigh of relief that he didn't have to shoot her and ruin the carpet, Kome holstered his pistol and walked over to the basement door. "Cassie, Alice, she's gone," he called as he knocked.

There was the sound of feet tramping up the stairs before the door swung open, the two girls emerging to find to their astonishment that Kome was in one piece, and both of them looked upon him with newfound awe. "Wow, Kome, that was amazing," commented Cassie.

Kome shrugged. "She does that a lot. Now, time to get back to training." That left Cassie almost dumbfounded, that he came so close to death, and waved it off as if it was nothing. But then again, he was the Russian military, he probably had seen more than his fair share of death.

With admiration for the man who seemed to have stood up to Death itself, they headed back outside. But Cassie couldn't shake the nagging thought, _why does he seem so different from the 'Commie bastard' that Dad described him as? He couldn't just be helping us because he feels like it, so what's his ulterior motive, if he has one?_

* * *

Christie walked down the beaches of Santa Monica with a slight limp. She hadn't fully healed from the chaos that had engulfed California after the earthquake, and it showed. If she turned around, she could see the scars the clashes and fighting had left on the city. But she chose not to do so, contenting herself with watching the waves. Maybe it was because of the large immigrant population in her borders, or the (former) US Naval bases, but she just felt an affinity for the waves and the open sea.

The beaches were empty, nobody really in the mood for surfing or sunbathing when they were struggling to restore normalcy to their lives. Still, Christie was out here, blue jacket on over black shirt, in addition to a pair of jeans. Sand was scattered by her boots as she followed the shoreline.

Even the day seemed sad. The sun was covered up by clouds that bordered on gray. A wind blew through the open air, chilling all it touched, though Christie stood resolutely against it. It was an ill wind, but she didn't know what it signified. There was nothing worse that could happen to her, short of California breaking off the continent. And that probably wouldn't be happening soon.

It was when she was walking back to her beach house when her feelings were proven justified. It was a sound that wouldn't have proved unusual before, but was now. Looking up, the clouds had broken enough for her to see jet fighters streak through the air. While that normally wouldn't cause her distress, since the Kingdom of the Rising Star had its own air force, the helicopters following after did raise some suspicion. That, and the profile of the jet fighters didn't look quite right to her. They didn't seem like recent generation US jet fighters, which was concerning, since it could mean some of the rebel factions in the country had gotten their hands on them, but why would they not bomb Los Angeles if they had the chance to do so?

Turning from watching the jet fighters vanish in the distance, Christie pulled out her cell phone, dialing up her boss, King Ferdinand. "Sir, do we have anyone flying aerial patrol over Los Angeles," she asked.

The response was immediate. "No. Instead, our radar has picked up a large mass of aircraft headed north from Mexico."

Christie rolled her eyes. "No shit. Some just flew over the city. What are they doing, and what are we doing to stop them?"

"We don't know. They're en route to Vanderberg Air Force Base, apparently. The Mexican government is saying its been authorized by the UN to do this."

"Like hell they are," growled Christie. "We're not gonna let those idiots get away with whatever it is their doing. I'll call you back." With that, she hung up and called the World Council, looking for some explanations.

"Ja, this is Germany. State your name und business," asked the man on the other side of the phone.

"Germany you asshole. Why are there jets flying over my country, attacking my airbases, and the Mexicans saying they got approve for this," yelled Christie.

Ludwig was confused by the outburst. "Excuse me, who ist this?"

"It's Christie! You know, Kingdom of the Rising Star and all that"

"Oh, you mean vone of those US separatist groups? Well, as you are not a recognized nation, you could not attend ze meetings. Anyvay, it is true, those jets were authorized for ze purpose of seizing the US nuclear arsenal, so you can't use it on yourselves."

"What?! This is illegal, this is a violation of my sovereignty! You have no right to be authorizing the deployment of anything into my country! Your government will be hearing from me about this!"

Ludwig sighed. "Again, you are not ein country. You have about as much influence here as Sealand does. This decision is too important to be changed."

Christie huffed. The sheer arrogance of the World Council was astounding. Sure, she may not be recognized as a country, but the US had no control here at all, and her independence was basically a fact, and anyone refusing to see that was just deluding themselves. But, she could see that the German wouldn't be changing her mind soon. "Fine," she said, giving in. "But this isn't over."

"Ja, vhatever," finished Ludwig, hanging up and going back to his work.

Christie checked to see that the call had ended, before dialing another number. "Eagle," she said, more calm than in her last conversation. "Do you see what's going on here?"

* * *

Eagle nodded. "Yeah," he replied as he stared across the border near Virginia. "I've got some problems here as well." As he watched, the green helmets of the US Army were being shuffled out, the troops heading west as they were replaced by blue helmeted men. Off the shore, transports moved from a naval fleet off the coast to the beaches.

"What is it," asked Christie.

"Well, there's a UN task force off the coast, and its currently replacing the US Army troops in Maryland and North Virginia. And yeah, we've got some trouble with foreign air units as well. We've decided not to shoot them though, since we don't need to ruin our reputation," explained Eagle.

"Hm, good point," replied Christie, turning more thoughtful and starting to cool down. If Eagle could handle a UN task force on his border, in addition to the aerial violations, she could handle her problems. Not that she was happy about it by any means, but she could put up with it, for now.

Watching, eagle could see a man with a beret, two guards trailing behind him, approaching. "Hold on Christie, I'll call you back." With that, he hung up as the man stopped in front of him. Still on the US side of the border.

"Eagle Jones," asked the man, to which Eagle replied with a nod. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm General Harrison, commander of the United Nations Stabilization Mission in the United States. It seems we're going to be neighbors."

Eagle eyed Harrison with distrust. "What's your purpose here, General Harrison?"

Harrison was grinning back at the nation as troops moved behind him, armored vehicles driving down ramps and moving inland. "Well, first we're going to clean up the radiation left by the dirty bomb, and then we're going to do whats in our mission title; Stabilize the United States."

"If that involves conquering us, we won't give you an easy time of it," said Eagle.

Harrison shrugged. "I don't have any intention of doing that at this point. As for the future, well, we'll deal with it when we get there."

Eagle still didn't trust this man, or his intentions. Call it hatred of the UN that he had inherited from his more conservative segment of the population, but he didn't want them on his border. Not when it was an international organization that didn't recognize him as a country. And he didn't doubt that he'd be on the receiving end of a rifle held by a man with a blue helmet if there was a war. Not if he was the aggressor, and while his nation was many things, suicidally stupid was not one of them.

He sighed. "Very well General Harrison. Hopefully we will not have to see each other for a long time. And I hope it is not on the field of battle. Don't doubt, you won't be seeing any mercy from me for this intrusion in North America. We can handle our own affairs, thank you very much."

His eyes narrowed as Harrison's grin grew bigger. "I'm sure you can. But the rest of the world thinks you need a little hand in that. So, I'm here." He shifted on his feet. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have naval landings to supervise. Good day Mr. Jones." With that, he turned around and walked away, followed by his guards.

Eagle stayed where he was, arms folded as he silently watched the continued UN insertion north of his border. Let them come, he wouldn't be intimidated. It was just something else to deal with, and he was the Hero. He could handle it.

* * *

Alfred was busy in his study, looking over some reports, and jotting down his own notes. Despite the near total collapse of the nation, the paperwork still had not lifted up. Of course, it was a lot more important now, since a single slip up could give the ungrateful children of his an excuse to come down and finish off the USA once and for all, so everything needed to be double and triple checked for security.

Alfred put the pen down, reaching up and rubbing his forehead with a sigh. He hadn't worked like this in a while, and the pain he was still feeling in his chest didn't make this easier. His physical wound had healed, but the otherworldly pain that came from national strife was still there, burning beneath the skin.

He had just picked up his pen to resume writing when his cell phone vibrated. Pulling it out of his pocket, he saw the caller id had Israel listed. That, at least, was one nation who still liked him. At least, he hoped so, despite the inability of the US to help them anymore.

Alfred flipped the phone open and put it up to his ear. "Yo, Israel, dude! Hows it going?"

There was a brief silence before the response came. "Alfred...I don't have much time. I just wanted to say...Thank you, for everything."

Alfred's heart dropped. The voice, it was so sad. Like something bad was about to happen. He chuckled nervously, sweat starting to form on his brow. "Come on dude. Don't talk like that. You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry Alfred. I just had to tell you...goodbye." Before Israel could go on, the phone connection cut out, leaving Alfred straining against a "disconnected" tone.

He quickly hung up then dialed again, muttering under his breath the entire time as he paced, growing more frantic as he got no response. "Come on Israel, pick up. Don't do this to me man, pick up the phone." Still there was nothing. "God damn it," he yelled, nearly hurling the phone into the wall, but stopping himself at the last second.

There was only one option left to him. In an action he found himself repeating very often these past few years, he ran to the tv and turned it on, defaulting to BBC since New York City had been taken over by the Communists in New England. And what he saw shocked him, causing him to fall down onto the couch facing the tv.

Splashed across the screen were pictures of devastation. Mushroom shaped clouds looming over Tel-Aviv and Haifa. Firestorms consuming Amman and Damascus. And to accompany it all, the reporters, trying to hold back their emotions. The first exchange between nuclear powers, more tonnage than when he had bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Jewissh people suffering another holocaust. And the last thing Israel had done was call him.

The reporters were talking. "At this point, all we can say for certain is that the region is in the process of descending into a general war. Iran and Israel have launched nuclear missiles, with both capitals being hit, and it has yet to be seen whether the Israeli's will make full use of the nuclear arsenal they are rumored to have."

"What was the Iranians justification for this act?"

"Well, for the longest time the Iranians have stated that they would destroy Israeli. Now, until now they haven't been able to because of US support for Israel. Without that support, they saw their chance and they took it."

"Alright, and what are conditions on the...hold on. We're getting reports of missile launches within Israeli territory... We can confirm that. Multiple missile launches have been detected from Israeli territory. The trajectory and amount has yet to be confirmed, but we can assume it is a sizable portion of the Israeli nuclear arsenal. The hearts of Britain, and the world, go out to those in the Middle east."

Alfred watched on in horror. They were right. It was a large portion of the Israeli arsenal, launched in one last offensive, striking back at all their enemies, those who sought to kill them. And the damage was not just limited to Iran. Cairo, Baghdad, other cities vanished as well. General middle eastern devastation as Israel meted out its vengeance upon the region. In death, they reaped a fearsome toll. Though it was some small relief, paltry in comparison to all the death and destruction that had just occurred, no missiles hit Europe, leaving those nations to watch on in horror as the Middle East destroyed itself in nuclear war.

Alfred couldn't tear his gaze away, looking at the carnage, the destruction, and knowing, in his heart, that it was all his fault. He hadn't done what needed to be done, had bowed to world opinion and hadn't eliminated Iran like he should have done back in the 1970's. And what had it gotten him? This, the first nuclear war in the history of the planet, the death of a close friend, and this ugly feeling in his stomach.

His hands clenched in anger at himself. Damn it! He was supposed to be the hero! Heroes prevented stuff like this. Sure, it'd get close to the brink, but heroes stopped the plunge over. And he hadn't been able to do that. Had been helpless to act. In fact, it was that very helplessness that had caused this tragedy.

Finally, he broke down. It wasn't the betrayal, the warfare, being alone, the constant pain, but seeing that, on the tv screen. The culmination of one of his major failures, his sheer helplessness in the situation, and the pointless death, it finally broke him down. Burying his face in his hands, sitting there on the couch as he was confronted with cold hard reality, he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he let out his pent up anguish.

* * *

*** Иди сюда = "Come over here."**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Delays and delays, though there will be less for the coming while. But it'll be worth it, I promise you. And soon enough we'll get to the actual game stuff, which will be nice. Just have some more setting up of stuff to do. And for some creative interpretation of the fight in this chapter, things that seem impossible happen because Alfred fights like Bruce Willis, and he's really, really, lucky.**

**Warnings: Violence, swearing**

**I do not own Hetalia, or anything else worth a significant amount of money.**

* * *

"_One man's terrorist is another mans freedom fighter_" - Gerald Seymour

Matthew strode through the halls of the new UN headquarters in Geneva, the General assembly having been relocated there with all the chaos in New York City, which had become a warzone when the Socialist States of America were fighting with US government forces. It hadn't been an easy relocation, but Geneva was pretty center to the UN already, so the only trouble was accommodating the moving of the General Assembly to Geneva, naturally a huge headache for Vasch.

Arriving in the newly furbished meeting room, Matthew was pleased to see that he was right on time. While he was related to Alfred, he took his new status as a major player more seriously than his brother. He'd at least show up on time, and now people actually noticed him and were willing to listen to his suggestions. As he walked in his aide Lukas moved to join him, holding a leaf of papers and a cup.

"Your coffee Mr. Williams," said Lukas as he handed over the coffee, which had been infused with a good amount of maple syrup since Matthew liked his coffee that way. Matthew took it with a grateful nod and stole a sip from it, the temperature just right to be warm, but not burn his tongue. Lukas then handed over the papers he held in his other hand. "And here are the notes you requested for today's meeting." Matthew took them and quickly leafed through them to make sure everything was there, though he expected it would be and he wasn't disappointed.

"Thank you Lukas," he replied, glad Lukas had been appointed to him by the Canadian government as his attache. The man was on time, thorough with his work, and was very good at detecting his bosses moods. He was an exemplary assistant, and one he was glad to have. With a nod, he sat down at his assigned position while Lukas quietly exited the room to join the other assistants of the various personifications in the lounge. Soon enough, everyone else was seated as well, and the meeting came to order.

"I hereby convene zis meeting of ze United Nations Security Council. Ze current topic on ze agenda is dealing with ze aftermath of the nuclear war in ze Middle East, which thus far has been termed ze December War by ze media," said Ludwig after banging a gavel. He was here despite the fact that he wasn't on the Security Council because he was the one best able to keep them on track with their selected topics without having to threaten people with a shotgun like Vasch would have,. Other than that, he was just an observer, unless it was time for Germany to be a non permanent member.

Arthur folded his arms and slightly leaned back. "I motion we discuss the current refugee crisis as a result of the war," he said.

"I second," agreed Matthew.

"Alright zen. Are zere any objections? Okay. Ze topic is now the refugee crisis. Arthur you have ze floor."

Arthur stood yup. "Thank you honorable chair. The December War was a tragedy of epic proportions, a war resulting in the near complete destruction of every major city in the Middle East, the spreading about of radiation, untold death and destruction. Because of this, we're facing a refugee crisis unlike any we've ever seen before. Thousands are fleeing the Middle East and the Arabian Peninsula, inundating India, North Africa, the Balkans, and Russia with a major humanitarian crisis. They can't handle the strain of all those displaced persons, and there's also the possibility of violence. I suggest we send in UN peacekeepers to the refugee camps to prevent violence between them and the local inhabitants. The red cross is already moving in, but there's a lot of work to do. So, let's get to work then."

Russia stood up next. "Russia is willing to take in all refugees. They are all welcome to become one with Mother Russia." That elicited a chorus of "No" from everyone else. Nobody wanted to think about what would happen to a bunch of refugees in Russia, considering their human rights track record.

France took the floor next. "The French Army Corp of Engineers will be departing shortly for North Africa to aid in the construction of refugee camps there. We believe the Russians will be moving into the Balkans, and the British into India, correct?" Arthur and Ivan nodded. "Then, with aid from all of us, the Red Cross, and UN agencies, we should have no issue."

Yao nodded in agreement. "China will send lots of food. That should help."

Matthew glanced up from the paper he was looking at. "Canada will assist in whatever way we can, though we are a tad busy with the problems south of the border." He glanced back down before standing up. "Now, I think we should really talk about making sure this never happens again. This was the first instance of real nuclear war in our worlds history. And as we've seen, the effects are devastating. We must ensure that this never happens again."

"And how do you propose we do that," asked Arthur.

Matthew pulled out a remote and turned on the projector, displaying a series of images, including blueprints, price charts, and graphs. A far cry from Alfred's scribbles. Still, the others had come to expect it from the Canadian, in the couple years he had been here.

"Essentially, I think we should make an orbital missile shield. A network of satellites orbiting the globe, which can identify a missile launch in minutes, and shoot it down if we give the word. It will be under UN jurisdiction, so no one nation can use it for their own ends. And thanks to recent developments in laser technology, this idea is more feasible now than the American missile defense initiative in the 80's."

The others shared glances. "Well, it will cost a lot, and I expect it will also need cooperation between our various space agencies, but it doesn't seem impossible," remarked Arthur.

"Da," agreed Russia. "But, as long as it is under UN jurisdiction so it cannot be directed at one group of alliances, we see no reason to not have it." And it was quickly agreed. to. With that out of the way, they moved on to the other related topics; cleaning up the radiation, trying war criminals, and the eventual recolonization of the Middle East.

After a day of hard work setting out details for dealing with the aftermath of the December War, they were about ready to adjourn. Still, Matthew had one thing he needed to inquire about, something he'd been meaning to do for some time, but had been too busy to do so. As they were moving to leave the building, Matthew walked up to Ivan, standing tall and not showing fear.

"Ah yes, Ivan. I've been meaning to ask, but my government would like an explanation as to the Russian presence in Alaska, Washington State, Oregon, and Idaho."

Ivan smiled warmly. "It Is simple, da. We are helping them set up their own governments, and overseeing their economic transition to independence while serving as their protection. It is merely a mission to stabilize the region. Nothing more."

For some reason, Matthew still didn't trust him, but there wasn't much he could do about it right now. "Alright then, I'll let my government know."

It was around that time that Lukas arrived at Matthews side. "Ready to go Mr. Williams?"

Matthew nodded. "Let's go." With that, they departed the room, leaving behind a Russian with a smile as he glanced at a globe of the world.

* * *

"...In what is being considered one of the most ambitious engineering projects to date, the UN announced that the Russian, Chinese, and European Space Agencies will be cooperating to launch a network of anti-missile satellites into orbit, which will be under UN control and for the purpose of preventing another conflict like the December War.

In other news, President Grendel visited with veterans of the recent conflicts, praising them on their patriotism and loyalty. With the continuing Shadow war, morale among the troop is at an all time..."

Alfred sighed, turning off the tv, which had been showing CNN news. So, the UN was finally getting off their lazy ass to do something? If only they had done this sort of thing when he was important, before the war. But, that was the way the world worked. They wouldn't be motivated to take action on an important issue until there was some sort of tragedy. And it was that fact that irked him. It wasn't just the UN, but his own people as well. He was the Hero, he was supposed to prevent tragedies, not lock the proverbial barn after the horse had been stolen.

He grabbed the can of beer sitting on the table and took a swig, glancing out the window to notice the sun sinking in the sky. Another pointless day, spent watching tv, drinking beer, and lazing around the house. To be honest, it kinda sucked. It was like the government was afraid to use him any more since he had gotten stabbed and nearly died. But he'd recovered. Sure, he wasn't exactly as strong as he had been before, but that wasn't important in these times. They needed everyone they could get helping to rebuild the nation, so why the hell were they keeping him out here, instead of using him?

Finishing off the beer, he tossed it into the trash can, making a perfect toss, something he'd become good at in the time he'd been here. Now that that was done, he needed to figure out what to fill the rest of his day with. He could sit in the study and read a book, maybe one of the philosophical texts or a biography or an epic fiction novel. He could play video games, though they were understandably tougher to get nowadays, so he only had old ones.

Finally reaching a decision, he tramped downstairs to the basement, proceeding through his man cave and the lunge before arriving at the gun range. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and proceeded over to the gun rack to make his selection. He looked over the various guns before selecting an M4 Carbine off the rack.

Placing it on the table, he expertly loaded it and pulled the lever to put a target in place. Shouldering the M4, he he began firing, shooting off quick bursts down the range. He fell into a sort of mechanical mindset, firing, reloading, and aiming without thinking. He didn't want to bode on his troubles or those of his nation, he just wanted to pass the time.

He didn't know how long had passed, but he was shaken out of his near trance as his phone vibrated. Glad to have someone to talk to, even if just for official business, Alfred laid down the carbine and pulled his phone out of his pocket. With a slight frown, he was sad to see that it was just an alert from one of his other apps, not a message. His frown deepened as he opened the app in question to see that one of the motion detectors on the perimeter of his land had gone off. It couldn't be a deer, and it hadn't come up the driveway, so this was something to be worried about.

He walked back over to the rack and grabbed a pistol, holstering it, before walking back over to the table and picking up the Carbine, reloading it before exiting the room. He went back upstairs and quickly moved to shut off all the lights, so he'd have time for his night vision to adjust. It'd also be a sign that he knew they were there, but it wouldn't matter if they just planned to fill the place with bullets and come in afterwards.

Adrenaline starting to flow at the thought of some action, Alfred set up on the deck, flipping over tables and chairs to make cover for himself as he waited for whoever was approaching to arrive. It'd be silly if they weren't hostile, but these days he wouldn't take any chances.

And he didn't have too long to wait. Soon enough, he could glance over the railing to see shadows sneaking through the yard. They were clad in what looked to be somewhat cobbled together uniforms, but they had top line weaponry. Probably from US arsenals seized by one of the US's neighbors and distributed to guerrillas to fight and try to overthrow the US government. Alfred quickly picked out men, guessing there were between five and ten, which indicated they might have been casing the place before and knew he was alone. Well, they'd still be in for a surprise.

He waited silently, his carbine ready as they advanced, until they hit the area he had mentally marked for him to spring to action. Utilizing his strength, which was greater than that of a normal human despite his injuries and the condition of the USA, he lofted a propane tank from the grill into the air, headed directly for the scattered group of guerrillas. They saw it coming and began scattered, but he quickly raised his carbine and shot the tank, causing it to explode in an impressive fireball, casting confusion into their ranks. To his fortune, they were wearing night vision and were blinded by the light from the explosion.

Alfred then began firing his carbine at the scattered guerrillas, who had moved quickly to duck behind cover. But Alfred shot fast, killing one and wounding another before they could recover and return fire, forcing him to take cover for now. He returned fire when he was able, shooting at the men who were sticking out of cover, his years of training doing wonders. But once the guerrillas recovered, they quickly adapted to the new situation and began utilizing leapfrog tactics, a few laying down cover fire while the others scurried forward.

Finally, one of them got close enough to the deck to toss a grenade. Seeing a grenade land next to him, Alfred dove for it and quickly lobbed it away, with the grenade exploding in midair and throwing shrapnel everywhere. Fortunately, Alfred was only nicked. Still, it had given the guerrillas time to rush forward while he was distracted.

Alfred glanced around, seeing that they were nearly to the deck and realizing that he would need to fall back. After a quick thought, he leapt into motion, laying his carbine to the side and getting a good grip on his cover, before lurching up and hurling the table on a flipping trajectory towards the bottom of the stairs. As it flew, he spun around, grabbing the carbine, and ran back as gunfire honed in on him, smashing through the glass door that led inside the house, the cascading glass cutting his skin as it fell around him.

He landed in a combat roll and dived behind a marble counter, leveling his carbine and making sure the first guerrilla through the door got greeted by a burst of gunfire, causing the guy in night camo to scramble back.

Apparently they had decided to try the diplomatic route, judging by what came next. "You in there. The building's surrounded, and you're alone. Lay down the gun and come out with your hands up, and I promise you won't be harmed."

Alfred snorted. That sounded so much like they were police or something, when they were just damn terrorists. He was America, and when the going got tough, he got going. So there was no way in hell he'd give up over this.

"Screw you," he replied. "You'll never take me alive, you damn pack of traitors." His statement was punctuated by a burst of gunfire.

"Fine. Be that way," replied the speaker. Another grenade flew through the door, releasing a burst of light and sound, followed quickly by the drumming of gunfire as the guerrillas came in through the door and windows. Alfred returned fire, though it was around this time he ran out of ammunition and tossed the carbine to the side, pulling out his pistol and standing upright as he fired while walking towards the basement door.

By this point, the guerrillas weren't sure what to make of Alfred. This was a guy that was taking on all of them, had refused to surrender, had explosives set up in his backyard and a table ready to get flipped or something, and now was standing upright and nearly walking as he shot at them. It intimidated some of them, but the presence of their comrades kept them from fleeing.

Despite what anyone could predict, Alfred made it over to the basement door with only a few scratches from shrapnel and grazes from bullets. The man certainly had luck. He quickly slipped inside and locked the door, charging down to the armory and grabbing the AA-12 off the rack before heading back upstairs. Why he had an automatic combat shotgun in his gun range was a question better left unanswered. Stopping at the door, he heard them discussing just burning the entire place down while he was in the basement to kill him.

Alfred smirked. Well, they'd be in for a surprise. He tightened his grip on the weapon before quietly unlocking the door, then slamming it open with hall his strength, leaving a massive dent on the wall from the impact, and the door nearly coming off it's hinges as a result.

Stepping out, he held down the trigger, sweeping his aim as shots ripped through the exposed guerrillas. They hadn't expected him to have an automatic shotgun, and were unprepared, letting him take down over half the men in the room before they got out of there.

With a grin, Alfred watched as the remnants of the group retreated into the woods. "That's what you get for fucking with the hero," he called out to them, though he doubt that they heard him, what with their panic. With them gone, he waited a few minutes before turning the lights back on to look around. And it wasn't so good to see. Bullet holes, the broken glass door, debris on the lawn, the bodies. With a sigh, he got on the phone to call some government people out to help him clean up.

As the crews cleaned up the bodies and removed the wrecked furniture, Alfred pulled out the phone yet again. "Yo, Pr. President. It's me. So, my house just got attacked by those guerrillas you've been fighting. I'm fine, I'm fine. But, I think it's about time you stopped sidelining me. I've fought in the Revolution, Civil war, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan. I know how to take down guerrilla movements. And sir, I'm just wasting away here from boredom."

There was silence on the other end of the line for about a minute as Grendel conversed with someone, until he finally responded. "Alright Alfred. They made it all the way to your place, so it's worse than we thought. Welcome back to the US Army. Report to HQ in two days."

Alfred was beaming as he heard this. "Thank you sir, but I never left. Once a Marine, always a Marine. I won't let you down"

"I'm sure you won't. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get at least a bit of shuteye for tomorrow. I can never seem to have a free day anymore."

Alfred nodded. "Alright. Goodnight sir," and with that, he hung up, putting his phone back in his pocket before doing a congratulatory fist pump. "Aw yeah. America is back in the game!"

* * *

Juan Machado grinned as he walked the streets of Port-au-Prince. Emmanuel Jean-Baptiste, the national personification of Haiti, walked beside him, showing him the sights of the capital. The place had finished being rebuilt after the devastating earthquake, and with the installation of a new government, was seen as a sign of renewal and rebirth for the nation, a freedom from the corruption and tyranny of the past.

"I really like what you've done with the place hombre," remarked Juan as they strolled the bustling streets. Bikes were prevalent, along with buses and rickshaws.

"Thanks. The new government's been really going at it, fixing up the infrastructure, providing basic services to the people. It's really been great. I'm feeling healthier than I've been in ages," replied Emmanuel, a Latino male, of an average height, but he was skinny. Not bare bones skinny, but one could see the distinct lack of fat and muscle in him.

"That's good." The two of them walked a bit more until they arrived in one of the parks that the government had been setting up around the city. Juan sat down on a bench to watch the people, while Emmanuel sat next to him.

"So hombre, you know why I'm here, right?"

Emmanuel shook his head. "Just rumors. I'm anxious to hear why you and Raul flew out here to meet with my government though."

Juan grinned, leaning back a bit. "Well hombre, a lots changed in recent years, you know? Alfred can't push us around no more. The Europeans are too bus dealing with their own stuff and the Middle East. So me and my boss figure we need to band together for common interest, create a power bloc that controls the Caribbean. That way, once the gringo's up north get settled down and turn their attention back here, they can't push us around."

Emmanuel was intrigued. "So, what did you have in mind?"

Juan glanced over at Emmanuel. "A full political union. A commonwealth between Cuba and various nations of the Caribbean. We can band together for common benefit, the sharing of resources. We can establish control over the region, and work for our own common interests."

Emmanuel thought about that idea. It was attractive, giving them collective bargaining power in the international community, and access to a lot of shipping revenue. There was only his worry that this would be a union dominated from Havana, which wouldn't work to help anyone else.

"It's an interesting idea, but I can see the tricky problem of an equal distribution of power, so everybody in this political union...commonwealth that you're trying to make is equal."

"I get where you're coming from. Don't worry about it. It'll be worked out when everyone gets together to write the charter."

Emmanuel didn't feel his worries lift, but he decided it wasn't time to worry right now. Like Juan had said, that was for the future. "Well, I think I can go along with this."

"Cool. This is gonna be the start of something awesome. Just you wait and see," said Juan, wrapping an arm around Emmanuel's shoulder and beaming. Indeed it would be. Without the USA in the picture, they'd be able to do so much more, and nobody could prevent the people of the Caribbean from taking their place on the world stage.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well, thanks to all those guest reviewers. Animefreak, don't worry. I still have a lot of material left to go on before we hit where the game is currently at, at which point we'll have to go onto forced hiatus. But that's kinda irrelevant right now. Now then, on to the show. Side note, the bit of plane related combat might suck here, since all I know about it I learned from Ace Combat. So sue me. **

**Warnings: The usual stuff**

**I own nothing Hetalia related. If I did, I would be a lot happier.**

* * *

"_Speak softly and carry a big stick; You will go far"_ – Theodore Roosevelt

Clad in cowboy hat, jeans, polo, and boots, Tex walked confidently over to the men at the border post, which demarcated the boundary between Texas and the NAPA in New Mexico. It'd been set up in the land grabs after the Collapse, when every secessionist movement was racing to get whatever land they could. In the process though, some nations lost what they thought was rightfully theirs. Louisiana had seized Oklahoma, despite Texas's desire to have that state as part of it's own nation.

This had inevitably led to less than amicable relations among most of the newly formed nations, which is why it would be near impossible to find a border that wasn't fortified to some degree. They ranged from the borders between the nations that once upon a time had made the Confederate States of America, which were less guarded, to the border between what remained of the USA and it's neighbors, which was fortified to a near ludicrous degree, almost as much as the DMZ that had existed in Korea before the second war there.

Which was why Tex was here. He'd been hearing reports of border clashes between his country and the NAPA, and wanted to check it out for himself. The NAPA was a faction that none of it's neighbors were really comfortable with. They still harbored the goal that the USA had, of reunited the continental US under their rule, under their law. The only difference was that the NAPA wanted to return to the constitution of the forefathers, while the USA wanted things to stay as they were. Similar ideas, but they refused to acknowledge each other.

Giving a salute to a border guard, Tex began strolling along the border, observing barbed wire, patrolling soldiers, signs to mark hidden land mines, etc. they were ready for fighting, but sadly less parts of the border were less fortified, which was where all the trouble was.

Squinting across the border, his eyes rose in surprise as he saw Nadie walk up, clad in mountain camo and wielding an M16. "Well, howdy there Nadie," he called across the border.

Nadie stopped her walking and glanced over to see Tex, waved, and stepped closer to the line separating the border. "Long time no see bro," she replied. "How's secession treating you?"

Tex grimaced. "_Independence_ is treating me just fine. The oil's flowing, industries humming, and the only real problem is these border clashes your people keep starting."

Nadie kept her weapon held comfortably in her grip. She was as much a gun lover as Tex, them both being members of the former NRA. So, both considered themselves seasoned. This gave them a repartee, but they were ready for a conflict at moments notice, and neither of them trusted the other right now.

She shook her head. "I don't know what they've been telling you brother, but anything that's happened here, your people started."

Tex snorted. "Don't give me that bull crap Nadie. We both know you're as gung ho to restore the Union as the USA is."

Nadie strolled a bit closer. "Come now brother, just because you were your own nation for a few years back in the 1800's does not give you the right to exist as a sovereign state simply because you will it."

Tex smiled as he moved forward as well. 'But I do will it. And I'm doing a pretty damn good job at it too. We ain't fallen to pieces just yet. So keep your guys on your side of the border, I'll keep mine o my side, and we'll have no issues."

"Sure, whatever you say brother," replied Nadie sweetly, even though she was lying through her teeth and Tex wasn't exactly oblivious to that. But at this point, there wasn't much he could do about it.

"So, how's Dakota," asked Tex, interested to hear news from Nadie's northern neighbor. They were somewhat close, thanks to similar personalities when it came to some things, like the outdoors, but their distance meant they didn't get to hang around much.

"Dakota's doing fine. He's riding horses in the Black Hills or something,' replied Nadie. "How's Eagle?"

Eagle had become something of their de facto representative in affairs that involved all of them. Which was usually trying to get people to recognize them as nations or to trade with them. Which was easier said than done for some reason, since a lot of nations either didn't like the collapse of the USA, or there was just too much international pressure against them to make any real headway. So they were stuck buying things off the black market and getting them smuggled in, as well as from each other. Not a fun prospect, but it was all they had.

"Eagle's doing fine. Busy as always, and I hear he's been having to deal with US backed guerrillas in his border states. But you can bet he's giving back what he's getting on the other side of the border, and once he gets his internal affairs in order it's only a matter of time before he finishes off the USA once and for all, then we can be done with that business for good."

Nadie waved to the guards approaching and turned back to face Tex. "Well, good talking to you brother. We should do it again sometime. Only maybe closer than we are now. Perhaps at a coffee joint or something. Yelling across this border is annoying."

Tex nodded. "That'd be nice. Call me ahead of time, and maybe I can arrange a get together with Louie and Eagle."

"Alright, see yah," said Nadie as she walked off along the border fortifications. Tex headed the opposite direction until he arrived at a border checkpoint.

He walked through and found the man in charge. "Alright. You've done good work so far, but keep an alert eye. If those NAPA guys push us, we have to push back just as hard. A sign of weakness will show them they can mess with us how they want. So don't let it come to that."

"Yes sir," replied the commander, saluting. Tex saluted back and began heading away from the border, whistling the national anthem.

* * *

Cassie laid on the ground, carefully aiming through the scope as she lined up the target, then gently pulled the trigger, feeling the Dragunov SVD jump in her hands as it fired. She quickly fired off a few more shots, keeping her calm as shots echoed through the countryside. The clip empty, she stood up and casually held the sniper rifle as she walked down the range to retrieve the target.

Arriving at where she had clipped the bulls eye, she was pleased to see that they had all hit the black. Kome had them training with all sorts of weapons now, getting them knowledgeable in all types of guns now that he had deemed their physical training complete.

Holding the target in her other hand, she went back to the firing line and presented it to Kome, who was watching impassively. He took it and looked it over. "Good. You're getting better."

"Of course I am," she replied, a bit cockily. "I can hardly get worse, with all the practice I've been putting in."

Kome frowned and had to restrain from slapping her or something. "Don't get cocky. That's what gets you killed. You underestimate the enemy, and they can take advantage of that."

"Don't worry. I know that," replied Cassie. "I'm not totally clueless about that sort of stuff. But I am more than human. Which gives me some advantages that I shouldn't be afraid to use. And as long as the nation survives, I can't die."

"That may be true, but that's no excuse to do stupid things. That could get other people killed, and then they'll be on your conscience. And you don't want that. Trust me, I know."

Cassie shrugged. "Well, thanks for the heads up. Hopefully I'll never have to fight a war though."

Kome nodded in agreement. He might represent the Russian Army, but he still knew that war was hell, and not something to be gloried in. "Alright. You can put the gun back. We're done for today."

"Thanks," said Cassie as she left the outdoor gun range, making her way back to the armory to store the sniper rifle, then heading inside to go find Alice. She found her curled up in a large plush chair, reading a book. Cassie glanced at the cover to see it was _The Call of the Wild_. She sat down next to her and sighed.

"Slow day," she commented idly, glancing over at Alice only to receive a nod in return, the girl engrossed in her book. She nudged her arm, but that didn't do much either. So she reached over and pulled the book out of Alice's hands so she'd pay attention.

"Yo, earth to Alice," she commented as Alice tried to cling to the book but failed. "What's been going on with you? You've been so distracted lately. I've noticed, and I'm sure Kome has too. So what's up?"

"It's nothing," replied Alice, moving to get better height so she could get at the book, but Cassie moved it away. "Don't give me that sis. You're more withdrawn than usual. I can tell, something's up. So what is it?"

Alice sighed, resigned to the fact that she wouldn't be able to get back to what she was doing if she didn't answer Cassie. "I...I miss Dad. I'm just so alone. I know you're here, but he's our dad. And everyone else was so mean to him, and now he's gone." She sighed dejectedly, little beads of liquid gathering in the corners of her eyes, and Cassie felt her heart falling as she looked upon her sister. She knew the feeling that her sister was having.

But, she also knew something her sister didn't. That Alfred was, in all probability still alive. Sure, the USA had held a low key funeral in Arlington before the ER broke off, which all of them had watched or heard about via the media in some way, though it was a small announcement, but she had a more reasonable way to think this. When no one else was looking as they left, she fell behind and called the emergency services. If they had made it in time, he was still alive, and just in hiding. And to be fair, she probably would have done the same thing.

She turned to her dilemma though. Should she tell her sister, or let her work through the pain? And even if she did, what would happen if Alfred was actually alive and revealed himself, only to get killed again by Eagle? It'd destroy her mentality. Probably. So, she made her decision.

"Actually Alice," she said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Dad might still be alive."

Alice looked into her eyes, the sadness apparent in her own. "But, the blood...what they did to him. How could he survive?"

Cassie smiled warmly. "Remember how I fell behind to tie my shoe and you all went on without me? Well, I took the time to call the paramedics in. If they got there in time, he's alive."

Alice's brow furrowed in confusion. "But...the funeral. They buried him. We all saw it."

Cassie shook her head. "We saw them bury someone like him. At least, a few of us did, or heard about it. They could have switched bodies, dressed someone up to look like him. We'd never know."

Cassie smiled as she saw Alice's eyes widen, hope reignited in them, the thought that perhaps it was true, that their dad was alive. "Maybe...Maybe Kome will let us see him. They're friends right? He can vouch for us. What do you think sis," asked Alice.

Cassie nodded, less confident than Alice that he'd let them go, but it was worth a shot. "Right. Let's do that now," she replied, standing up and helping Alice to her feet. Together, the two of them walked downstairs and outside to find Kome.

Currently, he was outside, cleaning his rifle as Cassie and Alice approached him. Hearing their footsteps, he looked up to see the two of them together, Alice a bit more apprehensive now than she had been when they started, and hiding a bit behind Cassie. "Hello. Are you in need of something," asked Kome.

Cassie nodded, stepping forward. "Yes. We were wondering if we could go see dad. I think we're due for a break, and it's been a while so he's probably recovered by now."

Kome put down the rifle and turned his full attention to them, a bit confused by the request. "But Alfred died. They had a funeral for him."

Cassie shook her head. "We think it was faked. The paramedics must have gotten to him, considering he's a nation. The funeral was just for all the others who broke off, to make them think he was dead. But we know the truth. And we want to see him, if only to tell him we're sorry."

Kome sighed internally. Damn it, he wasn't supposed to deal with this kind of stuff. He knew Alfred would probably try to murder them if he saw them, unless Kome could stop him first. But then again, it might get them more angry at their situation if he said no. so, he went with the next option. "Well, it is not my decision to make. Give me a few minutes."

"Alright," replied Cassie, watching as Kome got up and walked off a small ways, pulling out a cell phone.

Out of hearing range, Kome dialed Ivan's number and waited for him to pick up. "Hello brother. We have an...issue. The girls, they want to see Alfred...Apparently they know the funeral was a fake. I think one of them was that anonymous informant we were told about in that incident. …...I recommend we do it, just so they'll be easier to manage...Alright brother, if that is your decision, I will tell them."

Hanging up, he walked back over to the waiting sisters. They waited with baited breath to hear what his response would be.

"Sorry, but Ivan says Alfred doesn't have time for a visit. Something about the Eagle Republic."

This made Cassie react exactly as Kome expected she would. 'What the hell? 'Ivan says'? How does he know dad's schedule?"

Kome shrugged. "I don't know what he's up to. Maybe they have been meeting a lot recently."

Cassie glared at him. "Kome, please. Do this for us, just once. Take us to see our dad. I promise it'll be the only time. Just so he knows we don't hate him, don't blame him for what happened. We owe him that much."

Kome knew how she felt, and he really wanted to listen to her and take them both to Kentucky to meet with Alfred. But in the end, orders were orders, and he was duty bound to obey him. He shook his head. "I am sorry. But when Ivan says no, that is the end of story."

Cassie glared daggers at him before grabbing Alice's arm and pulling her away. "Fuck you," she called back over her shoulder, causing Kome to ruefully shake his head. Hopefully this wouldn't bite him in the ass.

Arriving back in the room they had started from, Cassie and Alice sat together thinking over what had just happened. "I don't get it. Why doesn't Ivan want us to see dad," thought Cassie aloud.

"Maybe...maybe they don't want us making up with dad," replied Alice timidly, as if nervous to suggest the idea.

"Why would they not want us to make up with dad? Wait, they were enemies once weren't they. Maybe this is Ivan trying to get the victory here he couldn't get in the cold war. Well I'll be damned if I let him use me as some tool to get back at dad for what happened in the past," remarked Cassie, fire in her eyes.

"But...if Ivan wanted to get back at Dad, why hasn't he recognized the other nations that have broken off. So far he's just helped us."

Cassie frowned in thought. "I don't know. But he's got some ulterior motive, you can bet your life on it. And whatever it is, we have to stop him. It's what Dad would want. Agreed?"

"...Agreed," replied Alice, taking her hand. They'd face the future together.

* * *

The quiet red dawn was shaken as Reveille rang through the Guatemalan Air Force base in Puerto Barrios. As the sun rose in the sky, the base stirred to life, personnel doing maintenance and refueling the aircraft of the Guatemalan air force that had seen such use in recent days. Fortunately they were safe here, something that could not be said for their neighbor nations. After all, they owned the skies, and the fighting wasn't on their soil.

As mid day approached, aircraft were moved to the runway for launch. From the central base emerged four fighters, the members of Viper Squadron. In front, the leader, Rafael Gerardi. Tan skin, black hair, well built. Flight suit fit to his frame. He didn't engage in the chatter of the others, focused on their mission. That was a trait that had earned him some respectful nicknames on the base. Coming up second was Alejandro Verais. A hotshot pilot with something of a temper. Despite this, he was fiercely loyal, and his performance showed that he wasn't all talk. Third was Vicente Pedrojo. He was the ice to Alejandro's fire. Chillingly cold, but a merciless killer. And finally, Oscar Ribatejo, the joker of the group, making wisecracks and making sure it didn't get too serious. Together, they were Viper squadron.

They made their way to their individual aircraft, strapping in, doing pre-flight checklists, and getting ready for takeoff. Once everything was prepped, they taxied and launched, heading out over the bay before winging right towards Honduras.

"Alright guys. We own the skies, but don't get cocky," said Rafael, or Viper 1, over the radio. "The Hondurans still have some fight left in them."

"At least we'll get some action here, unlike over in Belize," replied Oscar, or Viper 4.

"Wait, you fight? I thought you just did loop-de-loops and cartwheels while we did all the heavy lifting," commented Alejandro, or Viper 2, with a smirk.

"Can it guys. Let's get on with the mission," said Viper 1 curtly.

"Roger that," replied the other two. Silence filled the airwaves as they flew across the water towards their target. The day was relatively clear, except for the rising smoke to their right from Honduras. It was smoke that had been ever present, since the invasion began a scant few weeks ago. Guatemalan and Salvadoran troops had poured across the border after increased tensions, and an alliance between the two. No one knew how, but Nicaragua and Costa Rica weren't involved, which was so much the better. And Mexico had bigger fish to fry up north with their collapsed neighbor, so this hadn't gotten more than the usual diplomatic protests.

Before they knew it, they were coming up on the target zone. The area was a smallish inlet of water that the Hondurans were apparently using as an area for smuggling, bringing in weapons to fight their invaders. Viper Squadron had orders to go check it out, and if possible, neutralize the Honduran presence there.

"This is Viper 1. We are over the target area. Proceeding with radar sweep." The lead A-37 separated from the rest of the group, moving at a high altitude over the jungle, radar waves sweeping down to try and penetrate the trees and brush. The results came back negative on the radar sweep. Just the usual wildlife, and no sign of a Honduran presence.

"Negative on the radar sweep, moving to get a closer look.". The plane descended lower, sweeping over the tree tops as the radar waves were amplified by closer proximity, added to by visual confirmation. Sadly, the earlier confirmation proved to be false as warning lights wet off in Rafael's cockpit, sign that someone was locking on to him. He immediately started evasive maneuvers, but there was a plume of smoke from the ground as a rocket leapt into the sky, pursuing his plane.

"Contact! Hostile enemy AA confirmed,' called Rafael. "Firing flares."

The sky lit up as several red lights flew from the moving A-37, popping and fizzing in the sky as they fell towards the ground. Fortunately for Rafael, it worked, the flares diverting the missile to crash into a tree. Rafael turned around to rejoin the squadron.

"Enemy presence confirmed. Beginning suppression operations."

Quickly, the squadron began a familiar routine. Bombs fell from the planes to explode in the jungle, sending shrapnel and wood splinters from blasted tree trunks everywhere. Fires began to rage, and previously hidden vehicles, and people began scurrying about. The occasional rocket flew up at them, but those didn't do any damage, and the attacks declined as time passed. Meanwhile, things continued apace, Viper 2 deploying napalm into the jungle, blocking off escape routes and forcing those trapped to brave the flames or move into the open and get gunned down by Viper 3.

After what seemed like a few hours, but couldn't have been much more than half an hour in total, the Honduran position had been removed. The squadron reformed to move on further into Honduras. The rest of the mission consisted of the usual ground support operations. Strafing runs, bombing, that sort of thing. They managed to avoid friendly fire, and were successful in eliminating at least a few Honduran hard points.

They were en route to another location that had called in for air support when air command called in over the radio. "Viper Squadron, this is Viper Actual. Return to base immediately for resupply and subsequent deployment."

"Roger that Viper Actual. Returning to base." The A-37's swung around in the sky and began making their way back towards Guatemala.

"Wonder what's up," asked Viper 3.

"Maybe the Hondurans finally threw in the towel."

"Well, we'll find out when we get back." The rest of the trip was filled with silence as they flew through the sky back to the air base they had come from. Landing, they were surprised to see the base abustle with activity, as if they were preparing for some kind of attack. Immediately after landing, mechanics ran out to refill their guns and equip them with air to air missiles.

"Viper Actual, this is Viper 1. We have returned to base and are being prepared for further combat operations. What's the situation?"

"It's not good Viper 1. Turns out Mexico didn't want us invading anyone after all. They just didn't bother to tell us. They've joined the war against us. You're being redeployed up north for close air support and air superiority missions."

"Roger that Viper Actual. We will launch when ready."

"You are cleared for launch." Having been refueled and rearmed, the A-37's taxied onto the runway and took off into the sky. The odds were against them with the presence of the Mexican air force, but they were confident that they could hold them off long enough for Honduras to fall, and for peace to be made. While they would be right about the first statement, they would be less so about the second. This was a war that not all of them would survive. In the end, it would also be the motivation for a political union among Central America, for their common interest and against Mexico. Mexico would take Belize, and nobody would be happy with the other for a good many years.


End file.
